XMen: A Broken Shard
by Ryan Brooklyn
Summary: She stood with arms outstretched, a terrible expression on her face. Glass shards were everywhere, suspended in mid-air. Screams echoed throughout the building although there was no one there, save for two people.-Madison Clark comes to Xavier's School.
1. Prologue

**A/N: I started this fanfic two years ago and just rediscovered it in my room. I remembered that the plotline was pretty good so I dusted it off and got to rereading. Boy was I a rotten writer! However, I remembered practically everything I wanted to do with the story, so I've decided to get it from notebook to computer and put it up here. I hope ya'll like it. :-D**

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing pertaining to X-Men. That all belongs to Marvel._

**Rating:** PG to PG-13

**Genre:** Drama/Action/Adventure

**Summary:** Movieverse. She stood with arms outstretched, a terrible expression on her face. Glass shards were everywhere, suspended in mid-air. Screams echoed throughout the building although there was no one there, save for two people.

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**X-Men: A Broken Shard**

**Prologue**

She stood with arms outstretched, a terrible expression on her face. There was no light in the hallway, for all the light bulbs had shattered. Glass shards were everywhere, suspended in mid-air. Screams echoed throughout the building although there was no one there, save for two people. The girl's gray eyes burned with uncontrollable rage as her tense body trembled. Her fingers were curled in a way that made her hands look like those of a witch.

Through her red haze of vision, she could just barely make out the winged figure in front of her, slipping on the icy floor, his wings hindering him in his attempt to reach her. They kept bumping against the walls of the hallway as he stumbled forward. He reached out his hand to her, shouting something she could not hear, for the roaring in her ears was too great. She realized he wanted her to stop, to cease with this madness, as some would call it. But she had never felt such raw power before, and she liked it. No one could stand in her way. With a great cry she flung her arms forward, the glass shard following her motion, flying with deadly accuracy toward the winged man's bare chest.

The impact sent him flying across the room. He landed against the wall with a thud and slowly slid down it, leaving blood streaking against the dark wood. A malicious laugh sounded and the girl realized that the laughter was coming from her. A shiver ran through her entire body like electricity, then all went black.


	2. Chapter I

**A/N: Wow! I didn't expect so many reviews in the first day! Thanks guys! By the way, just so ya'll know, "Madi" is pronounced MAD-dee.**

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****Chapter I**

Opening my eyes was a chore that morning. Usually I am a morning person, but today I knew what was going to happen and that made me want to stay in bed all the more. Especially if it gave me time to think over my dream.

I had had the same dream for weeks now. Sometimes days went by without it, and I would dream something stupid like me and a stuffed bunny having a tea party upside-down in Frankie Bodkin's pool. _That_ was exciting.

But exciting as the nightmare was, it also scared me. It scared the heck out of me. Because although I always only caught a glimpse of the girl in the dream, she seemed a lot like me. And the thought of me killing someone like that made my stomach queasy.

I rolled myself out of bed when I felt I had stalled long enough. When I landed on the floor the bedside table shook, but I didn't pay attention. It wasn't like there was anything glass on it to fall and break. My foster parents Carol and Steve had made sure to remove all glass objects from my room. Even my windows were plastic. The first time I had had this nightmare, I had shattered every glass thing in the room. Carol cut herself trying to get to my bed. I had felt rather bad about that.

I moved to the closet to get dressed before I realized that all my belongings were in the two suitcases next to the door. I got out an outfit and got changed quickly before heading downstairs, tying off my brown hair into a high ponytail.

"Good morning Madison," Carol said with a bright smile. She handed me a plate with a pile of pancakes on it, plastic plate of course. "Did you sleep well?"

I shrugged, taking the plate and sitting down. It was no use telling her about the nightmare; she wouldn't understand it anymore than I did. Besides, I didn't talk to her, or anyone, really, for that matter. It's just this thing that happened after my parents died. I never knew how to explain it, even to myself. Carol leaned against the kitchen island where I sat and looked down at me as I poured a healthy amount of syrup on my pancakes.

"Professor Xavier will be here in an hour," she said, watching me closely. "Are you all packed?"

I just looked at her. She seemed to get the point and backed off, turning to the sink in order to clean up from breakfast. It was not as if she needed to ask the question in the first place. She knew I was packed: she had been the one to pack most of my stuff.

She paused in her cleaning and turned toward me slightly. "Madi, you know we just want you to be comfortable, right? I mean, living with other kids like you might . . . help." She sounded so sincere, but I wondered if she really meant it.

I knew my "ability" frightened her. I mean, manipulating glass can get rather dangerous. More than a couple times when I was younger, when I would throw a temper tantrum, someone had to get stitches as a result from something glass exploding.

I nodded to her and finished my meal. Wordlessly, I handed back my plate and went back upstairs to put on what little makeup I used and brush my teeth. Once that was done, I sat on my bed, staring across the room at my blank wall. I heard someone ring the doorbell but did not move. I wondered vaguely if Carol would miss me when I left. Honestly, I doubted it, but it felt nice to think that I _might_ be missed.

After a moment I sighed and stood, walking over to my suitcases and picking them up. Giving the room one last look, I left it, letting the door swing shut behind me. I made my way slowly down the stairs, pausing before I reached the wall that separated the stairwell from the living room. I could hear Carol talking about me.

". . . After her parents died when she was seven, Madison was sent to a different foster home. We actually just got her a couple years ago. She's gone through several foster care systems. With her . . . mutation, you know, it's hard to place a child like that. Especially one with her . . . condition."

"And what condition would that be, Mrs. Greene?" the kind voice of the Professor made me smile slightly. I remembered how comforting his voice had been when he first spoke to me about attending his school. At first the idea of a school for mutants sounded too good to be true.

"Well she doesn't . . . talk. Well, at least not to me and Steve. I've heard her say things to Frankie Bodkin. He's our neighbor's child. Madison sometimes baby-sits for them, although I know she doesn't talk to either of them, just the child."

"Interesting," I heard Professor Xavier say slowly.

'_I know you're hiding back there.'_ A voice in my head made me start slightly. I remembered then that the Professor had told me he was a telepath. Still, it felt somewhat uncomfortable to have him in my head like that. _'You can come out now, we don't bite.'_

Wondering what he meant by "we," I stepped out from behind the wall, suitcases in hand. Carol was standing in front of Professor Xavier's wheelchair, but there were two other people standing in the living room as well. A short girl stood to his left, and a gigantic, muscular guy stood on his right. They both looked friendly enough, but seeing as I was not expecting anyone other than the Professor, I was hesitant to make any move toward them.

"Hello Miss Clark," the Professor said, smiling at me. "It is good to see you again."

I nodded my head slowly, keeping a wary eye on the huge guy and the small girl. I mean, the contrast between the two was jaw dropping. The girl had to be around five feet, maybe five-one, and the guy had to be six-seven or six-eight. I had to tilt my head up to meet his gaze and I was an average five-five.

"Ah yes, forgive me. These are a couple of my students," Professor Xavier said. "I thought it might make the trip more comfortable for you if you had some children your own age come along."

I nodded again to the kids. The girl smiled. She was really cute.

"I'm Kitty," she said, offering her hand to me. "Kitty Pryde. It's really nice to meet you."

I shook her hand out of courtesy. The guy extended his hand as well. That one I took more hesitantly. Thankfully his grip was gentle as we shook.

"Peter Rasputin," he rumbled. Well, really he just spoke normally, but his voice was so deep I thought I heard an avalanche.

I smiled hesitantly. After all, they were being pretty nice. I turned to Carol who had tears in her eyes. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as she pulled me into a hug. I let her, unable to hug back because of the suitcases, but moved away as quickly as I could.

"Let me get those for you," Peter said, reaching over and grabbing my suitcases before I could shake my head. He lifted them easily, almost as if they weighed nothing more than a couple purses.

"Take care of yourself," Carol said, squeezing my arm affectionately. I gave her a slight smile before turning toward the door. I held it open for Professor Xavier to roll through.

As we made our way down the driveway, I heard the voice of little Frankie Bodkin calling out from his yard next to ours.

"Where you going Madi?" he cried, running over and flinging his tiny arms around my leg.

I bent and tried to loosen his hold on me, but he wouldn't budge.

"Don't go Madi," he said. "Don't go." His little round face looked up at me piteously. He slid down to sit his four-year-old self on my foot.

Glancing around, I saw Peter and Kitty politely adverting their eyes. The Professor continued to smile at me encouragingly. Sighing softly, I knelt and put my lips close to little Frankie's ear.

"Madi has to go to a private school," I whispered as quietly as I could. "But I'll be back to visit you."

"Promise?" he whispered back, looking at me with hopeful eyes.

I nodded and smiled, straightening and glancing over at the other people in my driveway . . . well, Carol and Steve's driveway. The Professor's smile widened. Kitty was now staring openly. I narrowed my eyes at her but she just smiled slightly.

I untangled Frankie from around my leg, ruffling his hair tenderly. He watched me sorrowfully as I walked briskly down the driveway to the black sedan that was sitting there. I climbed in quickly, making sure I didn't have to look back and see Frankie still standing there as I'm sure he was. Peter and Kitty got in next, after Peter put the suitcases and the Professor's wheelchair in the back. The Professor was sitting shot-gun.

The driver pulled away and I pressed my forehead against the window, wondering if we were going to drive from Indiana all the way to New York. I felt someone touch my shoulder lightly and looked over to see Peter looking at me.

"The kid seemed to like you," he said, smiling faintly.

"Yeah, was that Frankie?" Kitty asked. I nodded, wondering what it was to them.

"Seems like your good with kids," Peter observed thoughtfully. I simply narrowed my eyes slightly, wondering what he was getting at. When neither of them spoke again, but simply looked at Professor Xavier's head.

I leaned my head back against the window with a slight sigh, knowing that, if anything, I'd miss that snotty-nosed yet adorable Frankie Bodkin.

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So apparently we weren't going to drive all the way to New York. We drove to an airstrip where a very sleek looking ship was waiting for us. I walked up the ramp slowly, hanging back with Kitty as Peter rolled the Professor up. We took seats inside. I had a little trouble with the seatbelt at first. Kitty reached over to help me, but I shrank away from her so she paused.

"It goes like this," she then said, sitting down and demonstrating. I mirrored her movements and she nodded with a smile. I wondered if it hurt her face to keep smiling like that.

Once we took off (which was the smoothest takeoff I had ever experienced), Kitty and Peter swiveled their seats around to face me, undoing their seatbelts so they could lean forward.

"I'm guessing you're wondering what kind of mutants we are," Kitty said, gesturing to her and Peter. "Well, I can phase. It means I can pass through any solid object. Colossus's power is really awesome." She gestured to Peter. For a second I wondered who Colossus was, and then I realized it must be some sort of nickname or code name. It certainly fit.

I watched, rather impressed, as Peter's skin slowly grew hard and metallic, even his face. Kitty reached over and rapped her knuckles against the metal. The ping echoed throughout the ship. I raised my eyebrows and nodded, showing them I was impressed by the power.

"What can you do?" Kitty asked, as Peter's skin turned back to normal.

I glanced around, looking for anything glass. I noticed a pair of sunglasses discarded on a seat next to us. The earpiece was broken, so I assumed that that was why they had been left there. I concentrated on the glasses, moving them up through the air, over to where we were sitting. Kitty bit her lip suddenly.

"Um, those are Scott's . . ." she trailed off when she caught Peter's eye. He shook his head slightly at her and then returned his gaze to the sunglasses.

The glass was very pretty. Black and red. Frowning slightly, I concentrated hard and the glass shattered. Kitty jumped slightly. I reached forward and drew the glass into my palm. Closing my eyes, I cupped my hands together, envisioning a tiny black and red glass dragon. When I lifted my hand away, a perfect replica of what I had been thinking sat in my palm. I held it up for them to see.

It had small wings, and spines along its back and long tail, which curled around itself. It was sitting up on its haunches and its long neck was arched. From his mouth came a small flame. I held it out to Kitty, who took it almost reverently.

"That's amazing," she said, looking up at me once she had studied it. She handed it over to Peter, and I noticed how careful she was being, not only with the glass dragon, but with her hand and his. I noticed an almost conscious effort she made _not_ to touch his hand. I raised my eyebrows slightly but they did not notice. Kitty was still staring at the dragon and now Peter was too.

"It's beautiful," he breathed, making the dragon rock slightly in his hand. He looked up at me and our eyes met. "Would you mind if I kept this?" he asked.

I glanced at Kitty. The tiniest flicker of surprise crossed over her face before she grinned slightly and turned to me to see my reply. I hesitated briefly, wondering why he wanted to keep the thing. It was only a figuring. However I shook my head, guessing someone might as well keep it and put it in a nice place.

He leaned back in his seat and stared studiously at it, and Kitty watched him, and I stared out the small window. And all was silent the rest of the trip.

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**This was a major rewrite. In my notebook there was maybe, 500 words? And this chapter has over 2,300 words. Wow, that's some improvement I must say. ;P Please review and tell me what you think of this chapter! The next one should be up soon. :-D**


	3. Chapter II

**A/N: And now we are introduced to some more X-Men! Sorry it took a while to get this chapter up. Enjoy!  
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****Chapter II**

When we arrived at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, I was actually impressed by its appearance. Somehow, in my mind, I had imagined a cold, sterilized building, despite the brochures. That's where I felt a lot of people would like to put us mutants. But the place actually looked like it had in that pamphlet and I was pleasantly surprised. I'm a sucker for old buildings covered in ivy, so it was practically perfect.

The inside had a homey feeling to it as well. It really did not feel like a school, but really one big house. I liked it immediately. I was so busy admiring the architecture, I forgot all about Kitty and Peter. It was only when Peter cleared his throat (so loudly and deeply I thought I saw a vase on a small table shake), that I remembered them. I glanced over.

"Would you like me to show you to your room or not?" Kitty asked, looking amused.

I blinked. Oh yeah, I had forgotten about that. I nodded and waited for her to lead the way. She did and I followed, Colossus bringing up the rear with my suitcases. As we passed a stairwell, I happened to glance up and I saw a small boy peeking out from between the parallel wooden rungs of the banister. I paused and waved up at him slightly. He just stared for a moment before sticking his tongue out at me. I blinked in surprise when I saw that his tongue was thick and forked and a purple-ish blue color.

"Artie!" I started as Kitty's voice suddenly sounded from my right. I had not realized they had stopped as well. "Don't be so rude to our guest."

Artie pulled back his tongue, but continued staring. When Kitty and Peter walked on, I paused briefly in order to stick my tongue out at him teasingly in reply. He grinned faintly and I waved again before hurrying to catch up with Kitty and Peter. Already I knew I would have now at least three friends at this school, and I was glad for Artie at least: he reminded me of little Frankie.

"Don't worry; Artie does that to everyone. I think he's proud of his tongue," Kitty said, glancing over her shoulder at me.

I just gave her a small smile, hoping she would catch on that I didn't mind. We walked through another hallway and stopped at a door. Kitty pushed it open to reveal a room that smelled slightly old and looked like it hadn't been inhabited in a while. It had two twin-sized beds, a bathroom to the side, and a closet. It wasn't too big of a room, but it seemed like it for my room back at Carol and Steve's was pretty small.

"So this is your room. You don't have a roommate, but that could change, just so you know," Kitty said as Peter walked in and set the suitcases on one of the beds.

I smiled and walked over to sit next to the suitcases. I just looked at them then, waiting for them to leave. There was an awkward silence for a moment before Kitty gestured to the door.

"We'll just go . . . then," she said. She stepped back and then stepped forward suddenly. "Oh, I forgot to give this to you." She fished in her pockets for a moment, before handing me a folded piece of paper. "That's your class schedule," she said as I took it.

I pressed my lips together and looked down at it, reading what was on it before deliberately staring at it for a long moment, indicating that I wanted to be left alone now. Kitty and Peter caught on soon enough and left. I tossed the paper on the bedside table and lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. After a moment I thought I heard someone at the door, which was still open slightly. Sitting up, I caught a glimpse of a dark head ducking away and the door slamming shut.

I had to smile slightly, having an inkling that it had been Artie. I stood and crossed over to the door. However when I opened it, Artie was no where to be seen. I contemplated just shutting the door and going to bed, but curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to explore this place more. So I shut the door behind me and started walking.

The place was humongous. The students were obviously still in class for it was only the afternoon, so it was mostly quiet empty, which made it seem even bigger. Once and a while I'd have to duck behind a pillar or a corner or a bookcase in order to avoid kids coming out of classes and moving to their next ones.

I was in some such hiding place with someone found me.

"You must be the new girl," the voice said. It sounded male. I wondered how he could have guessed _that_. I turned and gave the speaker a scathing look.

"Ouch and she's smokin' hot. Nice to meet you; I'm Pyro." The kid in question gave me a head-up greeting and smirked as his eyes looked me over rather unsubtly.

I wondered if he _really_ wanted to try that. I narrowed my eyes at him as he lifted a hand out as if he wanted to shake hands. I just kept glaring.

"Ah, the silent type I see," the kid "Pyro" said, sticking his hands inside his pockets. I wondered what his real name was. "I'm fine with that. Besides, we won't need much talking in order to get to know each other, huh?" He lifted his eyebrows and smirked wider.

Just when I was contemplating whether or not to shatter a nearby vase into his skull, another voice spoke from behind me.

"Leave her alone, John." Another male voice. What was the ratio of boys to girls in this school? 20:2? I turned to see who was talking _now_. And I was met by the most gorgeous blue eyes I had ever seen. Seriously, they were amazing. I mean, I thought Frankie Bodkin had some pretty adorable eyes, but this kid had little Frankie beat.

Now some would now say "I was speechless" that's kinda a non-issue with me. Still, I think my heart stopped beating for a moment when I took a step back and observed the rest of this guy's face. He gave me a slight smile.

"Hey," he said. "I'm Bobby Drake. You must be the new girl Kitty was talking about. Madison Clark, right?"

I just nodded dumbly. And by dumbly I mean stupidly. I felt incredibly stupid standing there nodding my head off. So I stopped. John, or Pyro, had seemed to disappear, apparently put off by Bobby's intervention.

"Uh, Kitty told me about your power. Pretty neat."

I just nodded again. Once more I felt like an idiot and wished I had the guts to actually speak. But, as usual, words failed to inspire me to speak and I just stood there, mute.

"I suppose I should show you what I can do," Bobby mused thoughtfully. He reached forward and took my wrist, bringing my hand up. Goosebumps traveled up my arm as he cupped his hand over mind. After a second he pulled away and I was holding an ice sculpture of a flower. I stared at it a moment before it became too cold to hold. I dropped it suddenly with a hiss, watching as it hit the ground. Then I grimaced, as the flower broke to pieces on impact.

"It's no biggy," Bobby said good-naturedly, waving his hand over the floor. The ice rose up and seemed to retreat into his hand. I watched, fascinated.

"So, you have any classes yet?"

I had to think a moment before I realized he was talking about schoolwork. I shook my head.

"Okay then, do you need help finding your room?"

I thought about that for a moment and then nodded, figuring it would give me more time to spend with him. He led the way back to my room and then leaned in the doorway as I entered it.

"You're lucky you don't have a roommate," he said with a slight grin. "Kitty has to share a room with some other kids, since she's a couple grades younger." Was she? I hadn't noticed. She was short but I had just thought she was petite. Her face looked more mature than only fourteen years old.

"So, uh, I should let you get unpacked," Bobby said, smiling slightly. "I'll see you later." With a wave, he left. I waved vaguely back, watching as he closed the door behind him.

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I couldn't fall asleep that first night. I don't blame myself though, I was afraid of having _the_ nightmare and it wouldn't have made a very good first impression if I shattered all the glass in my room. I stared up at the ceiling for about an hour, counting sheep since counting sheep _never_ puts me to sleep, I'm always too worried I'll skip a number and have to start all over again. It takes a lot of concentration.

Finally I couldn't take it anymore. Getting out of bed, I wrapped my robe around myself, pulled on my bunny slippers (which I unashamedly brought with me), and exited my room. The school was deadly silent. Everyone was in bed, obviously. Duh. It was an hour after midnight.

I tiptoed down the hall, wondering if I could find the kitchen in order to snag a snack of some kind. Milk sometimes helps me sleep, and Oreos to dip into the milk didn't hurt either. I was insanely proud of my fast metabolism, since I could eat like a pig and never gain more than a couple pounds. Carol was extremely jealous.

I heard the sound of a TV down a hallway and followed the sound, thinking someone must have left it on. I was surprised to see a kid sitting on a long couch, staring at the television. He seemed to have some sort of power that controlled the set, because every time he blinked hard, the channel would change. I approached curiously.

"I don't sleep," the kid said before I could even think about saying anything. I just nodded wordlessly, even though he didn't even glance at me. I made my way around the sofa and sat down, curling up at the edge, far enough away from the kid so he wouldn't think I was trying to make friends or anything but close enough so I would feel like I had some company.

After a few minutes, and a couple hundred channels later, he seemed to settle on a nature show, since he kept that on. He glanced at me then and stared at me solemnly from behind his coke-bottle glasses.

"You're the new girl," he stated factually.

I nodded, wondering if it would be safe to talk to him. I had only spoken to kids younger than five who still sucked their thumbs.

"I'm Jones," he offered after a moment of silence.

"Madison," I forced out, and watched him warily. He just looked at me a moment longer and then nodded, smiling faintly, before turning back to the TV.

I watched the stupid nature show with him for a while. It actually felt kinda nice to just sit and watch something with someone. After about an hour I began to actually feel sleepy. A man droning on about the life cycle of the gnat (in Spanish), was better than any milk I could have drunk.

Unfortunately, not long after I had closed my eyes, the nightmare came again.

_The girl stood in the middle of the dark hallway, the lights flickering dangerously. The girl raised her hands and the light bulbs exploded, showering the air with sparks and pieces of glass. The glass suspended in the air and a long, agonizing moment passed. Then came the screaming, the crying, and the shouting._

_Someone was shouting at her._

"_Shard! Shard don't!" More static from the broken light bulbs crackled. The voice was coming from behind her, but she did not look back._

"_Madison, stop! Madison!"_

"Madison!"

"NO!"

I sat up suddenly, drenched with sweat. I felt a cold draft from somewhere behind me, but everything was strangely silent. I realized that I couldn't hear the TV. Jones was no longer sitting in front of me. Slowly, I turned my head and met the wide, frightened eyes of Jones. He had cuts all over his face and he was standing oddly straight and stiff. When I glanced behind him, I saw why.

Thousands of shards of glass were hanging in the air, inches and centimeters from his entire body from the back. I gaped for a moment, before dropping them quickly. Since he was barefoot and I only had my slippers, I quickly pushed them off to the sides of the room. I looked at his face and saw something amiss besides the small bleeding scratches. His glasses were gone. I inhaled sharply and looked down at the ground. There were the frames, without the lenses. I closed my eyes briefly, feeling a headache coming on.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have fallen asleep." The voice barely sounded like my own. It sounded small, scared, horrified. When I opened my eyes, Jones was looking at me seriously, the frightened look slowly leaving his gaze as his shoulders relaxed inch by inch.

"The television and my glasses started shaking soon after you fell asleep," he explained his reason for still existing. "I took off my glasses and tried to wake you up, but then everything glass exploded and . . ."

He didn't have to finish. Just the realization that I could have killed him was enough to get me scrambling off the couch and away from him.

"You should see a doctor about your face," I told him quietly, before turning and running away from the scene as fast as I could. I raced back to my room and slammed the door shut behind me. I threw myself on the bed, but then quickly rolled off of it, knowing I couldn't fall asleep again and risk hurting anyone else.

I crawled into a corner and pulled my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around my knees. I stayed like that until morning and the breakfast bell rang.

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**Kudos to those who remember who Jones and Artie are. XD And don't worry you Bobby/Rogue fans, nothing is as it seems, remember that. ;) Now please review and tell me what you think of this chapter! :-D**


	4. Chapter III

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up. I was working on a chapter for a different fanfic, but then I lost the entire chapter and got really discouraged so I came over to this story. Enjoy!**

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****Chapter III**

"Madison? Madison Clark? Honey, I need you to open your eyes for me. Can you hear me? Madison?"

I opened my eyes slowly, meeting the kind brown eyes of a red-haired woman kneeling in front of me. She smiled as my gaze locked on her. I couldn't smile back. I remembered vividly what had happened last night and I realized I had fallen asleep despite my efforts to stay awake. However I knew I had only slept about an hour so no nightmares had come, which was a relief.

"Hi Madison," the woman said with a wider smile. "My name is Dr. Jean Grey. Professor Xavier wanted me to talk with you about what happened last night. Can we sit on the bed?"

I realized I was still curled up in my corner. Uncurling myself slowly, I stood and moved over to the bed, sitting down on it as I watched her warily. She smiled again and took a seat next to me.

"First of all I want you to know that Connor Jones is doing just fine. He had some miner cuts but they've been taken care of. In a week he won't have even have the smallest of scars."

I smiled faintly, glad for that at least. I began to relax slightly, seeing as this woman looked pleasant enough. She wasn't offended by my silence at least, like a lot of adults were.

"He mentioned you had a nightmare. Feel like telling me what it was about?" Her eyes looked deeply into mine. Feeling uncomfortable at her intense gaze, I shifted my eyes away, staring down at my hands which I clasped tightly in my lap. Slowly, I shook my head.

"Well that's alright," Dr. Grey said after a pause. "I suppose you're not ready to open up yet and that's perfectly fine. We will be replacing your windows with Plexiglas, and taking everything glass out of your room however. Just to be safe. Is that alright with you?" She sounded concerned, as if it should matter to me. It didn't. I nodded my head.

"Good. Now I hope you'll join us for breakfast. I hear we're having eggs and sausages, not something we have every day." She gave me a slight wink and I allowed a tiny smile. "Get dressed and I'll see you in the cafeteria." She patted my knee and then stood. "By the way," she said, turning to me. "You seem to have quite a way with kids. You've only just arrived and already both Jones and Artie have been asking about you. Keep it up and I'm sure you'll make plenty of friends here. You seem like a nice girl." Giving me another smile, she turned and left the room.

I wondered at her words while I got dressed. Normally I did not take much stock in what I wore. I just threw on whatever my hands grabbed first. This time however, I dressed carefully, just in case I should see Bobby. I rolled my eyes at myself even as I smoothed down a nice white blouse that I hardly ever wore. I even put on a long, peasant skirt that Carol had bought for me ages ago that I never touched. I wasn't a skirt/dress kind of girl. It was a little shorter than it was supposed to be, reaching mid-calf instead of my ankles, but the overall effect was pretty good.

I ran a brush through my straight brown hair and wished it were a more interesting color. Or curly at least. It was mouse-brown and straight as sticks. Bleh. So boring. I pulled it up into a high ponytail. Then I ran some mascara over my eyelashes. I never wore makeup. Ever. But the thought of seeing Bobby compelled me to put some on. Just a little bit. I could barely control myself. My hand seemed to move on its own as it applied the mascara. I wished again for a different color. This time for my eyes. Gray. Boring, washed-out looking gray. It wasn't even a color for eyes. Not really.

Now if I had blue eyes or green, then maybe my hair wouldn't have been so bad. I snapped out of my reverie with a start as I realized I was falling into the dreaded Anne-of-Green-Gables Syndrome. Normally I hated it when the girls at my old school looked down on their looks. As if it really mattered. They plastered their faces with layers upon layers of make-up as if it would help make themselves more attractive or something. What they really needed was personality transplants. Especially those in the cheerleading squad. The clones.

As I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror I was at least grateful I hadn't resorted into naming my reflection and treating it like an imaginary friend. Sticking my tongue out at myself, I turned and threw on some shoes before making my way out of my room and looking down at my palm where I had written the directions to the cafeteria after studying my student map very, very carefully.

Once I arrived I immediately got that sickly feeling in my stomach that one gets when walking into a room full of strangers. Luckily there were so many kids that none of them seemed to notice me. One or two looked up when I went to get my food, but other than brief eye contact (which I quickly avoided) they ignored me.

I found an empty table after I got my food and sat down, keeping my eyes on the table. I had to admit, the food looked pretty good. Not at all like the cafeteria food back at my old school. I wondered if someone's mutant ability was super-cooking. Picking up my fork, I dug into my scrambled eggs. I had not gotten far into my meal before a perky voice sounded from above me.

"Good morning, Madison!"

Kitty sat down across from me, a wide grin on her face. "I heard that it'll be sunny all day today. I was wondering if you'd like to go swimming with me and some of the other students later on. It'll be a lot of fun. You should think about it."

I just blinked at her. Great, if I was an Anne, she was definitely a Pollyanna. I realized I would have to put up with her cheerful attitude, since I wasn't going to speak to ask her to go away. I was content to just ignore her as I continued to eat. I felt kinda bad about ignoring her, but I didn't know whether or not she had heard about last night and I didn't want any pity.

"Nice, hot _and_ spicy." An familiar obnoxious voice caused me to look up with a frown as John "Pyro" sat down next to me. He smirked and nodded to my plate.

"Oh, and the sausages are too, I'm sure." He winked at me and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "I heard about last night. You know, being in constant danger of being cut with glass when around you is a total turn-on." He reached out with a finger and stroked my arm with the back of it.

I moved away and Kitty did not restrain herself from rolling her own eyes. "Lay off, John," she said, sounding somewhat annoyed.

"Whatever you say, babe. You know I'm still waiting for my crash course in computer sciences. I have a feeling you can't wait to lay it all on me." A lazy grin crossed his lips and he winked at Kitty.

I gagged. Who did he think he was? Rhett Butler? Gosh, I was getting a table full of literary characters. It was getting rather annoying. Kitty was shooting daggers into John from behind her glasses (figuratively, of course).

"Back off, Pyro. You know you won't get any girls that way." Peter's rumbling voice caused the water in my cup to vibrate, he was standing so close. I jumped slightly at his sudden appearance. John looked annoyed so many people were interrupting his flirting session.

Peter smiled shyly at me as he sat down next to Kitty with his own tray of food (piled high, I noticed). I gave him a slight smile in return. I didn't mind Peter so much. He was the strong, silent type, I could tell. Definitely a Colonel Brandon. The thought of colossal Peter dressed up like Alan Rickman in that movie made my smile widen.

John saw my smile and thought I was laughing at him, in response to Peter's words. I watched with an amused look as he muttered a profanity and got up, leaving the table with a huff of indignation.

"Don't pay any attention to him," Kitty offered. "He's flirty with all the new girls. It won't last long. You're doing well holding him off."

I didn't see anything special about my lack of response to John's flirting. I didn't respond to anything. I continued eating as Peter and Kitty began a conversation between them.

"Hey, is this seat taken?"

I turned and looked up into the ice blue eyes of Bobby. My literary fixed brain immediately pegged him as my Mr. Knightly. Inwardly I hoped I wouldn't have to wait nine years before he realized he liked me just as much as I did him. I shook my head at his question and he smiled, melting me to my toes. I moved over slightly so he could sit next to me.

He looked at my almost empty plate. "Hmm, I'm guessing that means it's good, huh?" he asked.

I could only nod, my eyes still fixed on his face. He smiled crookedly and looked back at his plate. I realized I must be making him uncomfortable with my staring and I mentally smacked my head hard. Snapping my gaze back to my plate, I finished eating, acutely aware of the fact that whenever Bobby moved his arm to eat, it brushed against mine and shivers ran up my spine.

I swear I almost opened my mouth to say something. I wet my lips and glanced sidelong at him, waiting for my courage to form the words I wanted to say . . . whatever those were.

Before I could figure it out however, another girl approached our table. Kitty looked up from her conversation with Peter and smiled.

"Hey Rogue! I was wondering where you were. Did you sleep in?"

"Just a little, who's this?" The girl, Rogue, wasted no time in pegging me as the odd one out. I saw immediately that she was used to sitting with this group. I was in her territory and she did not look very happy about it. Awkwardness settled in for a few seconds before Bobby the Gentleman hurried to try and ease it.

"Oh, this is the new girl, Madison. Madison, this is Rogue." He stood and gestured to his seat, as if wanting Rogue to sit there. She did so and I felt immensely disappointed when he sat on the other side of her where there was barely enough room for him to do so. "She's my girlfriend," he explained, taking Rogue's hand, which I noticed was gloved.

In fact, I noticed both of her hands were gloved. That and that she was really, _really_ pretty. She had a streak of white in her hair and wore incredibly cool clothes and I immediately felt inferior to her in my blouse-and-peasant skirt hippie outfit. She looked at least nineteen, whereas in my getup, I'm sure I looked fourteen. She didn't look like she was wearing much makeup, and she did not need to.

Hearing Bobby say those three words made my stomach flip-flop painfully. I'm sure I turned pale for Kitty looked over at me in concern.

"Are you alright, Madi?" she asked, taking the liberty of using my nickname, despite the fact I had only known her about a day. I nodded briskly and then stood abruptly, glad that my plate was empty so I could pretend I was going to put my dishes away. I did so, and then made a quick getaway, skirting around several tables and ducking behind a group of students who were leaving.

As I left, I kept a steady eye on the table where my "friends" were. None of them seemed to have noticed yet that I was not coming back. However, just before I exited the door, Peter looked up and scanned the cafeteria, and I knew he was looking for me. Even from across the room I could tell when our eyes met. He made as if to stand, but I turned away quickly and left the room.

I felt like such an idiot. Of _course_ Bobby would have a girlfriend. I immediately changed him from Knightly to Mr. Willoughby. I knew that wasn't being fair . . . he hadn't deliberately misled me to believe he was available, but he had never mentioned her and so that had led me to hope.

I went about my classes and successfully avoided everyone from the table. Except once when I accidentally ran into Peter. It was like running into a brick wall and I almost fell backwards. He grabbed my arm and looked at me in concern, but I simply brushed his hand off my arm and moved around him, avoiding eye contact.

When school was over and free time began, Kitty once again came to me with the offer to go swimming with her and some of her other friends. However I politely refused and spent about an hour just wandering around the school. I ended up in the TV room, noticing that they had already replaced the glass windows and vases and the TV.

The television was on and the channels were moving so fast I knew it was not being controlled by an ordinary remote. I began to back out slowly, but the kid must have heard me because he stood and turned to me. I winced when I saw the Band-Aids on his face. However he only smiled slightly and beckoned to me.

I approached cautiously. He sat down and then scooted to one side, indicating he wanted me to sit down next to him. I did so slowly and cautiously, surprised he was not holding what had happened last night against me. Slowly, I settled back against the sofa cushions like he was, and watched as the TV settled on a kiddy movie. I had seen it before with little Freddie Bodkin, but I did not mind seeing it again for the sake of entertainment.

At a particularly funny part, I actually laughed out loud. I felt hesitant fingers on the back of my hand and I turned to see that Jones was staring at me. I realized this must be the first time I had actually laughed out loud in front of anyone (besides Freddie at least). Jones smiled at me and I smiled back. I knew at that moment that I had made a friend. Not simply gained one, like Kitty and Peter and Bobby were trying to do. Be my friend, without my consent. No this kid I _wanted_ to be friends with. I didn't know who else at this school would forgive me so readily after getting injured by my ability. But I knew Jones would.

I turned my hand and curled my fingers around Jones's, smiling again before turning back to the movie.

And that was how I spent my first official day at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

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**So that's the chapter. A little short and not very informative, but then she just got there. :-P Review and tell me what you think!**


	5. Chapter IV

**A/N: In honor of the new Wolverine movie out, I decided to give ya'll another chapter sooner than I intended. Enjoy. :-)**

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**Chapter IV**

"Yes, they are. They're big and buggy. Big buggy eyes. Like a fly. Big buggy fly eyes."

I could not help but laugh at that, especially once I saw the scowl on Jones's face as he retorted hotly,

"They're _not_ buggy. They're beautiful!"

Artie stuck out his forked, purple-blue tongue at Jones. "They're buggy," he insisted, obviously convinced of the fact. "Big, buggy and ugly."

I was lying on my back next to the indoor pool; the boys were splashing around inside of it. Well, they were, before they got on to this little discussion. No one else was around, which made sense, since I had chosen the time for the pool visit to coincide precisely with the big Xavier's School basketball game.

It had been several weeks since my first day at the school and I was growing more comfortable with it. I still didn't talk to anyone, and I avoided Bobby and Rogue like the plague. I still cringed sometimes when Kitty spoke to me in her cheerful friendly way, trying to get me to respond, and I still appreciated Peter's quiet ways that never demanded a verbal answer from me.

I did my schoolwork diligently, but other than that I stayed out of school sports and any other extracurricular activity. Kitty tried several times to coerce me into the chess club or the glee club or the yearbook group. I declined every suggestion with a shake of my head. I was content to spend my free time watching TV with Jones.

After a while Artie began to join us. He would stand in the doorway at first, feigning disinterest. Then slowly, day by day, he would inch in toward us. We would pretend not to notice him, something that bugged him and made him approach nearer. Jones and I would hide our snickers the best we could as we felt him get nearer and nearer. Finally, one day he sat on the edge of the couch. Jones blinked hard and the channel switched to an old horror movie.

It was rather cheesy, but some parts obviously scared little Artie. Finally, the eight-year-old jumped onto the sofa and buried his face in my arm. We laughed then, and he peeked out slowly. Realizing we were laughing at him, he showed us his unusual tongue and sulked. However from that day forward, he stuck close to us.

Of course I didn't walk around with two little kids stuck to my hips. During the school hours I "socialized" with kids my own age. But as soon as no one was around, I retreated to my little corner of solace, where the three of us watched TV shows, movies, and generally goofed around.

I began to laugh more, and it became easier to do, more natural. Slowly, I began to speak more as well. Just to the boys, of course. No one over eleven years old had yet to hear me speak. But in our place, I felt no fear or anger or loneliness. I felt as normal as could be. Even the nightmares began to grow less and less frequent.

Every once and a while Dr. Grey would check in on me. She told me she saw an obvious improvement in me. She said I had a certain glow about me now and asked if I was happier. After a brief pause, I nodded the affirmative. I _was_ happier. So much so, it surprised me.

It also made me grow wary. I did not want to be _too_ happy, at least not seem so in front of anyone other than Jones and Artie. Otherwise, more people might try to get me to talk to them, and I was not ready for that.

This afternoon, I had started in the pool with the boys, but got cold fast. I was just cold-blooded that way. I liked being snuggly warm when it was cold out, but as soon as it was _really_ cold, I started shivering uncontrollably and it was hard to get warm again. So I laid myself out on the wet concrete around the pool and soaked up the sun's rays that filtered in through the glass ceiling. As I closed my eyes, I listened to the boy's bickering.

It had started with an innocent comment from Jones, asking me if I liked how big my eyes were. To tell the truth, when I was little I hated my big doe eyes. It always made me look like this innocent angel when I knew inside I was far from it. Artie then spoke up to say that he thought my eyes were buggy. And therein started the argument.

I was content just to laugh at them from where I lay. Unfortunately, all this revelry had caused my guard to sink way down to a dangerous level. One moment I was laughing, the next I stiff as a board, squeezing my eyes shut as a very familiar voice spoke from above me.

"What's big, buggy, and ugly?"

"Madi's eyes," Artie was quick to reply.

"But they're not! They're beautiful." Jones was even quicker to defend me.

A deep chuckle told me exactly who was standing over me. I realized then that I was in a rather compromising position. I was wearing the most modest bikini I could find in the store, but it was still showing too much skin to be comfortable around a guy of Peter's age. I stood quickly, wanting to grab my towel before he saw me any longer. However my foot slipped on the wet side of the pool and I was suddenly falling backwards into the deep, cold water.

The shock almost knocked me out right then and there. Sometimes people say, when they've been hurt badly or are dying, they see their life flash before their eyes. Well, I didn't see my life. What I saw was that girl from my dream, arms outstretched, millions of glass shards suspended in mid-air around her. Only this time I actually saw the girl's face.

It was me.

I screamed instinctively, a stupid thing to do. Water rushed into my nose and my mouth and I couldn't breathe. Spots appeared before my eyes and then . . . blackness.

. . .

The next thing I knew was something warm and soft on my mouth. Then I felt a rush of air enter my lungs and I realized someone was performing CPR. The only person I could think of was Peter, since he had been right there and saw me fall.

"Is she breathing yet?" I heard Jones's anxious voice, somewhat fuzzy above me. Someone pumped my chest and I felt the water stuck in my throat begin to make its way upwards. I felt a warm breath on my face and I knew that the first person was coming back to my mouth. Slowly, painfully, I turned my head and gagged as the water spewed forth, all over the concrete, along with a good measure of saliva I'm sure.

I coughed roughly, feeling a burning sensation in my chest and throat. I opened my eyes then, as I felt a large, strong hand on my back.

"You're okay," said Peter, his deep voice so close it startled me. I turned quickly and almost bumped noses with him. I flinched backwards automatically, falling back on my elbows, his hand still supporting my back. Artie and Jones were on the other side of me, watching my face intensely.

I turned my eyes back to Peter and immediately wished I hadn't. He was bare-chested, wet, and completely gorgeous. I had to blink several times to make sure I wasn't seeing things. I mean, this was Peter. Shy, quiet, hardly-ever-speaking Peter. I mean, obviously I knew he had to have _some_ sort of muscular frame to be as hard and tall and huge as he was. He was Colossus after all. But I never thought his body would look so . . . _good_. Water was dripping off his arms and shoulders and hair and his eyes were smoldering in an expression I didn't recognize and . . . my pulse quickened. I was beginning to feel somewhat faint.

"Her face is red; is that bad?" Jones's worried voice snapped me out of it and I realized then that his hand was still on my back and I was still inappropriately dressed and I was still half-drowned. I looked up into Peter's dark brown eyes and saw concern in them. I wondered if he even _knew_ how good he looked right then. He probably didn't. He was beginning to look worried and I suddenly remembered to breathe again.

I scrambled away from him quickly, using Jones and Artie to pull myself up. They didn't mind. Jones grabbed my towel and Peter took it from him, standing as he placed it over my shoulders. I did not turn to look, knowing that since his height was as it was, I would be staring straight into the middle of his chest. Not a good view for me right now.

Artie's hand wormed its way into mine and Jones wrapped his arm around my waist.

"We'll get her to Dr. Grey," Jones told Peter over his shoulder as they began to lead me shivering out of the room. Before we left though, I pulled back, stopping us. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Peter standing there, shirt back on, watching us. I offered him a tiny smile.

"By the way," he said suddenly, looking at me again with that expression I could not read yet gave me goose bumps. "I don't think your eyes resemble an insect's at all." His lips quirked upward in what appeared to be his attempt at a smirk. It was too nice to be a proper one.

"Thanks," I said, before I could really know what I was doing. I bit my lip immediately afterwards, stunned that I had actually said something to someone beyond the title of pre-adolescent. He recognized the significance of this instantly and smiled back.

"You're welcome," he answered.

I turned back quickly, pausing before I let Artie and Jones lead me out. I wondered if Peter had known I had meant thanks for more than just a compliment. The guy had saved my life, for crying out loud. Somehow, I think he did.

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A small flashing light passed between my eyes. Back and forth, back and forth, on and off, on and off. Finally it was put away.

"Well you seem fine to me. A little waterlogged, but no permanent damage done. You were lucky." Dr. Grey gave me a small smile.

"She wasn't breathing for _thirty_ seconds," Artie exclaimed, as if that had been the coolest thing in the world. "I counted."

"It was scary," Jones said, his eyes wide behind his glasses.

"But Colossus used CRP and brought her back to life," Artie continued his tale excitedly.

"That's _CPR_ you dope," Jones said, shaking his head as if at Artie's immaturity.

Dr. Grey gave me an interested look, but I avoided her gaze. Just thinking about that embarrassing moment made me turn red. I never knew a person could actually feel the CPR being administered to them. I kinda wished I could forget the memory, but I kinda wished I would never forget it. His lips had felt so soft and warm and what was I doing thinking about that again? Man, I'm sick.

Dr. Grey smiled. "Did he now?" she asked, and gave me a look that _convinced_ me she knew _exactly_ what I had just been thinking. I wondered how she did that and then remembered: she was a telepath.

She shooed the boy's out and then turned back to me. "Well, I see no reason for you to go back to classes, but I'd like you to check in before you go to bed, just so I can see how you're holding up."

I nodded in agreement and hopped off the examination table. I was about to leave when she called my name. I turned back.

"I know you spoke today. To Peter. This is a big step in the right direction. I'm happy you're on your way to healing. Feel like telling me what happened in your own words?"

I hesitated, knowing that if I spoke now, it would be hard to stop again and I was not sure I was ready to be Miss Talky. However, she had been really nice to me these past several weeks and I thought she deserved at least a little something, since apparently I was talking today.

"No, thank you," I replied, and then smiled as she gave a small laugh before turning and leaving the examination room.

Artie and Jones were waiting outside for me. "There's still a few minutes left in the game, you want to go watch?" Jones asked, pushing the bridge of his glasses up higher. Artie gave me such a hopeful look that I melted right into it.

"Sure," I replied. I could not help but smile as the boys cheered and then took off down the hall toward the gymnasium where the basketball court was. I followed more slowly. I turned a corner and suddenly ran into Bobby Drake. I stumbled back slightly, but he caught my arm to keep me from falling. I was suddenly very glad Dr. Grey had given me a spare change of clothes.

"Hey, you been to the pool?" Bobby asked. "You're missing a great game."

I just stared at him, finding myself falling into his beautiful blue eyes . . . again. Boy was I a sick chick or what? Just a few minutes ago I was drooling over Peter's physique, and now I'm back to lusting after Rogue's boyfriend. I really needed to _stop_ it with these crushes. I reminded myself that I didn't have a crush on Peter, just had a moment of weakness seeing him wet and shirtless, like any girl would when seeing a good-looking guy like that, especially if they had just saved them from a watery grave.

_And_ I reminded myself that Bobby was totally off-limits sine he had a girlfriend that could probably beat me up. I gave him a vague smile and stepped around him, continuing on my way to the gym.

"Well, I'll see you around," he called after me, sounding somewhat puzzled. I know he didn't get why I had been avoiding him these past weeks, and I shouldn't have been so abrupt with him. But I was _not_ in the mood to be around any good-looking guys right about now.

Of course at that moment John the Pyro stepped across my path. "Hey, looky who it is," he said, looking me up and down with a smirk. I didn't wait for any dirty jokes or lame come-ons. I simply reeled back my arm and punched him in the nose.

Then I continued on my way without a glance back.

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**So now we're starting to get somewhere. ;) Review and tell me what you think of this chapter! The more reviews the sooner the next one will be up . . . at least, I'll try harder to get a new chapter up the more reviews I get. ;P**


	6. Chapter V

**A/N: Sorry it took so long for me to get this chapter up! I had a drama production and then I couldn't think of what to write! Hopefully this really long chapter makes up for the long wait (it was 10 pages!)**

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****Chapter V**

Unfortunately I couldn't concentrate on the last minutes of the game at all. I'm sure it was very exciting; people were jumping up and down all around me and either cheering or booing, depending on which team they were rooting for. My mind was too full of questions, about the weird feeling that appeared in my stomach when Peter saved my life, about the way my arms got goose bumps whenever I saw Bobby's beautiful blue eyes, and about seeing myself in the "vision" or whatever while I was underwater.

I couldn't figure out why it would be _me_ in the dream. I didn't _know_ anyone with wings, but I _did_ know I could never hold _that_ much glass suspended in mid-air, at least not consciously. And what in the world would I have to be so mad about? The dream made absolutely no sense whatsoever, and that bothered me.

Jones and Artie tugged at my arms, shaking me out of my reverie. I frowned at them, wondering what the heck the matter was. Then I realized that the game was over and everyone was leaving. I stood and let the two boys lead me down the bleachers, my mind still on my vision, near-death experience, whatever it was.

"Hey Madi!" a perky person greeted me at the bottom of the bleachers. Kitty, of course, grinned at me. "Great game, wasn't it? Why are you all wet?"

"We went swimming first," Jones explained.

"And Madi almost drowned!" Artie exclaimed.

Kitty's eyes widened. "Oh my . . . are you okay?" she asked me anxiously. I nodded quickly, not wanting to dwell on it, partly because it wasn't that big of a deal, and partly because my mind was still on my "vision". She looked like she was about to say something else, so I quickly tapped her shoulder in farewell and moved past, allowing Artie and Jones to follow me if they wished.

I went straight to my room. Realizing that Artie and Jones _had_ followed me, I turned to them as I laid my hand on the door knob. "I'd like some time alone, if you don't mind," I told them pointedly. Jones nodded with a slight smile.

"Sure, no problem." Grabbing Artie by the sleeve, he dragged the younger boy down the hall.

"See you later!" Artie called as he disappeared around a corner.

Shaking my head fondly, I shut my door. With a slight sigh then I walked over to the bed and threw myself down upon it, not caring that I was still wet. After a moment I felt grimy though, being wet and in unfamiliar clothes. I took a quick shower and got into my pajamas early, wanting to feel comfortable. As I was combing my hair, I heard a knock on the door. Curious as to whom it could be, I walked over and opened it.

"Uh, hey," Peter said, looking slightly awkward. I instantly felt awkward myself, remembering his CPR and then my train of thought after I was revived. I'm sure my face was red as I looked up at him expectantly.

"Listen, I just wanted to say . . . thanks." At my quizzical look he continued on, sounding somewhat hesitant. "For speaking to me I mean. I know you don't talk to just anyone and it . . . it meant a lot, hearing your voice." Now his face was turning red, although I'm sure it was not as bright as mine.

I switched my gaze to the floor, unable to think of a response at the moment. My silence did not seem to faze him however; he just cleared his throat slightly and took a step back.

"So yeah . . . I just came to tell you that." He turned then, to walk away, and that was when my brain kicked into gear.

"You're welcome," I said, the words somehow coming easier this time. Peter paused, turning his head to give me the same strange look he had given to me earlier that gave me goose bumps. It disappeared though, after a quick second, and he grinned faintly.

I shut my door quickly then, afraid I would spill out more words. He had so surprised me with his thanks that the words had come almost automatically. Still, it felt good, somehow, to actually speak to someone close to my age. I walked slowly back to my bed, running the comb through my hair once more as I sat down. So many things had happened to me today that I could not process it all. I lay down and curled up into a ball, staring at the wall in front of me. Peter's words came back to me and I could not help but let a warm feeling come over me. I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

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Strangely, no dreams came that night. Or the next night or the next one or the one after that. For the next two months I dreamed absolutely nothing. I did, however, speak a few more times to Peter. Once it was completely by accident. I had gotten so used to talk to Artie and Jones that one day when I bumped into Peter after one of our classes, I blurted out "excuse me!" He had given me a strange look, although not the same one that gave me goose bumps. After that incident I had tried to avoid him, but that proved nearly impossible since Kitty followed me around almost everywhere and Peter usually hung out with Kitty.

One good thing about those two months was the fact that John, the Pyro, avoided me like the plague. After I punched him in the nose, he seemed to finally get the fact that I was not interested in him whatsoever. Bobby talked to me sometimes, but he mostly hung out with Rogue, who still did not seem to like me very much. Perhaps she caught the sad eyes I kept finding myself giving Bobby when I was sure he was not looking.

Dr. Grey saw me every once in a while, trying to coax some words out of me. I remained politely silent. A couple of times she asked if she could look into my mind for a possible answer to my silence. I had politely refused. I liked Dr. Grey, she was really nice, but I did not want her in my head, finding things out about me that even _I_ did not want to know.

Christmas came. _That_ was an interesting time. First of all, the day before Christmas I received a knock on my door in the early morning hours. When I went to see who it was, no one was there. However there was a small wrapped gift on the floor in front of the door. I bent and picked it up, puzzled as to who it could be from. I realized after a moment that it must be from Kitty, since she had been trying to get me to come to a Christmas Eve party that she was hosting down in the gym. I had declined, but then felt bad about it, since she had been trying so hard to be my friend. I had finally consented to go and I supposed this was a thank you.

When I opened it however, I got second thoughts. It was a beautiful white gold necklace, a plain delicate chain with a rose pendant. It looked almost exactly like the rose Bobby had made for me out of ice when he was demonstrating his powers. My mind instantly jumped to the conclusion that it was from him and my heart started pounding faster. Perhaps he had noticed my trying to avoid him and was attempting to reconcile our friendship? The thought made me feel slightly giddy as I placed the necklace around my neck.

I hid it under my shirt however, not wanting Kitty or anyone to ask about it. I wanted to wait until the party to show it off, and hopefully get to thank Bobby for it. I don't think I could do it with Kitty and Peter's eyes watching me so closely. Some days I wanted to tell them to stop watching my every move, waiting for me to talk to them . . . but then that would be pointless seeing as I would be talking to them in that moment . . . yeah.

Still I had a feeling I would end up talking to them sooner or later. Seeing as I was already slipping with Peter, Kitty couldn't be too far behind. The rest of the day I spent in stubborn silence. Unfortunately that meant I didn't talk to Jones or Artie either and they looked somewhat hurt and offended. I wanted to tell them that this was only temporary and that I would be talking to them again soon, once I got the hang of not talking again.

My silence was really my only defense once I thought about it. I used to be the type of girl who would wear her heart on her sleeve. My parents always spoke about how open I was, and how they loved that about me. That any problem I had I would just talk to them about it.

After they died, I knew I could never speak like that again. I could never trust anyone with my heart like I had my parents. They were the ones that were supposed to protect it and now they were gone. No one else could protect it so I had to keep it inside, in my silence.

Ugh, but now I was doing it again. I did not _want_ to think or talk about my reason for silence, which is why I kept silent in the first place. Didn't people _get_ that?

The time for the party drew near and I got ready for it. Kitty told me it was semi-formal so I dressed in a black skirt with a red blouse, red for the Christmas spirit and all. I wore red Converse though, knowing I would never be comfortable in heels. I even wore a little makeup, trying to make myself appear more grown-up I guess . . . for Bobby's benefit. I tried to put my hair up in an elegant twist, but seeing how straight and unmanageable it is, it completely failed. I decided to just leave it down.

The white gold rose I wore on top of my blouse, trying to think of how to thank Bobby without speaking. Come to think of it, I was not sure I should go to a party when I wouldn't be speaking the entire time.

However I had nodded to Kitty's repeated request, so I was stuck going now. I made my way down to the gym and was relieved to see that I was not the first one there. I would be able to just melt into the crowd and hopefully remain inconspicuous most of the night.

Unfortunately Kitty saw me first and pounced.

"Madi! You came!" I did not point out to her that of course I came since she practically twisted my arm off to get there . . . although I was sorely tempted to. "I just know you'll have a great time," she said, giving me a hug.

I wiggled out of her grasp, only to stumble backwards into Peter. He caught me quickly around the waist to keep me from falling, and I blushed at the contact, quickly pulling away once I got my feet placed firmly on the ground. I almost muttered "thanks", but caught myself just in time.

"Careful" was all he said before moving past to the refreshment table. Kitty turned to me with a smile.

"Well, help yourself to any refreshments and I hope you have fun! I'm going to greet some other people now. See ya!" And she hopped off to do just that. Her perky personality was beginning to wear on me, and I had just arrived! I wondered if I was being cynical and I knew I probably was. I just didn't like parties.

I grabbed a cup of punch and then sidled out of gym as quickly as I could, making my way out of some double doors to the outside. I saw a flicker of dull orange light to my right and looked over quickly. I relaxed slightly when I realized it was only Logan, or Wolverine, standing there. I had seen him around but this was the first time I had seen him up close.

He saw me looking at him and nodded in greeting. "Not a partier either, huh?" he asked, taking another drag on his cigar, which I realized was the orange light I had seen. I shook my head, watching him with slight interest. He stared back at me for a moment before nodding again.

"Right, you're the one that doesn't talk," he said and I wondered how he knew that. Then of course I remembered the fact that he and Dr. Grey were very close. "I like that. Not much of a talker myself." He took another drag of his cigar and did not speak again.

We stood in rather companionable silence, me with my punch and him with his cigar. After a while though I ran out of punch and his cigar grew too small for him to puff. He tossed it on the ground and stepped on it. Giving me a short nod he said "Merry Christmas" and walked off into the darkness of the courtyard. I watched him leave before I sighed and realized I should go back in. It was chilly outside (although there was no snow yet) and I had forgotten to bring a jacket or coat.

I tried to sneak back into the gym to pretend I never left, but I came across John in the doorway. He glared at me.

"My nose swelled up for _weeks_ because of you," he growled at me. I just blinked at him innocently, pretending I did not know what he was talking about. I started to walk around him, but his hand shot out and grabbed my arm, keeping me from going any further.

"You're going to pay for what you did," he said, gesturing to his nose with his free hand, which looked perfectly fine to me now. I was sorely tempted to punch him again, but at that moment some kid in the gym (meaning well I'm _sure_) shouted out loud and clear,

"Hey look!! Pyro and Clark are under the mistletoe!"

Of course everyone turned to look then (stupid mistletoe! Why did anyone make up that tradition in the first place??) and started chanting "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" How immature. Still, this was a school full of kids and teenagers, so what was I to expect.

I turned to give John a warning look, silently telling him not to even _think_ about trying it. However he had apparently come to the conclusion that he could use this to get back at me and he grabbed my shoulders and pressed his lips to mine in a harsh kiss.

Two seconds later and I pushed him away, slapping him hard across the face. This gesture invoked laughter and whoops from the spectators, but I did not stop to see how he would react to it. I marched off down the hallway, head held high, back stiff.

Before I could reach my room however, I ran into Bobby and Rogue on their way to the party. My heart soared as I looked up into Bobby's light blue eyes. Bobby looked surprised and pleased to see me, Rogue only looked slightly annoyed.

"Hey Madi!" Bobby said. "You leaving the party so soon?"

I nodded briskly, then, thinking that was a little abrupt, allowed a tiny smile.

"Nice necklace," Rogue commented, and was I imagining things or did she sound slightly jealous? I looked down at it and then up at her, smiling more broadly.

"It is," Bobby said, as if just noticing it. "Christmas present?"

I started in surprise. Did that mean it _wasn't_ from him? Or was he just trying to be coy since Rogue was standing right next to him? As I looked closer at him however, I saw that he was being sincere. He did not know who gave it to me, so it obviously was not from him.

My heart sank into my toes. I nodded in response to Bobby's question and then moved past them both, heading straight to my room. Once I got there, I hesitated, before moving farther down the hall to where I knew Artie's room was. Seeing as the Christmas Eve party was for teens and chaperones only, all the little kids were already in bed. I felt bad for ignoring him and Artie earlier and wanted to make it up to them.

Unfortunately once I reached Artie's room he was already asleep, sliding halfway off the bed. I pushed him over so he was all the way on the bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. Bending down, I kissed his forehead lightly.

"Merry Christmas," I whispered, before leaving the room, shutting the door softly behind me.

I found Jones in front of the TV, as usual. He glanced at me, then back to the TV Christmas Special of _The Miracle on 34__th__ Street_. I sat down beside him and stared down at my hands, clasped together on my lap.

"Look, I didn't mean to ignore you today," I told him softly. "I just didn't feel like talking to anyone." I glanced over at him. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings."

Jones shrugged. "Okay," he said, keeping his eyes on the screen.

I raised my eyebrows. "'Okay?' I come all the way over here to tell you I'm sorry after promising myself I wouldn't speak to _anyone_ all day and all you can say is 'okay'?"

He looked over at me with a wry grin. "If you had waited thirty more minutes it would have been midnight and you could have talked all you wanted without feeling guilty about it."

I opened my mouth to give him a smart answer, but could come up with none. I smirked faintly. "I love you, Jones," I told him.

He smirked back. "I know," he said, turning back to the movie. I reached over and ruffled his hair.

"Don't stay up too late," I joked. "Don't want you to see Santa."

"Yes, Mom," he said, looking amused. I grew serious at that however, wondering where Jones's mother even was. I had never heard him mention her.

He noticed my change in attitude and his smirk softened to a small smile. "Merry Christmas, Madi," he said seriously.

"Merry Christmas," I told him, standing and watching for a moment as he turned back to the movie. I walked around the back of the couch before pausing and turning back, planting a soft kiss on top of his head.

I practically sighed with relief when I reached my room once more, ready to lie down and go to sleep, not having realized how late it actually was until Jones had mentioned the time. Yet before I could enter my room and the sweet rest of unconsciousness, Peter appeared next to me.

"Madi," he said in a soft voice, so close it made me jump and clutch at my chest. I turned and gave him a scolding look for scaring me with his sudden appearance. He winced slightly. "Sorry," he said, his voice sounding deeper than usual for some reason. I looked up at him expectantly, hoping this would be quick since I was about to fall asleep on my feet.

"I'm sorry what happened back there," he continued. "With John and the mistletoe. I told Kitty not to add it." He looked so sorry about it that I felt bad about wanting him to leave. "Anyway, I didn't want you to feel like you had to leave. I mean, you can come back to the party if you want . . ." he trailed off, sounding uncertain.

I smiled slightly at his thoughtfulness, but shook my head. He seemed disappointed.

"Oh. Well, okay. I just thought I'd offer," he said, moving to leave. I felt really bad then and reached out to lay my hand on his arm, stopping him.

"Merry Christmas, Peter" I said, my throat dry for some reason. I looked down at my hand. It looked so small compared to his muscular arm.

"Madi . . ." I started slightly as I felt his fingers on my cheek and I raised my head, finding myself staring into his dark brown eyes that were suddenly smoldering again with the expression that gave me goose bumps.

I don't know how long we stood like that, my hand on his arm, his hand on my face. Abruptly, it seemed, he pulled away, stuffing his hand into his pocket.

"Merry Christmas," he said, backing away slowly. I watched him go with what I was sure was a confused expression on my face. Why did my blood run cold and my arms break out in goose pimples whenever he looked at me like that? It was the complete opposite of what I felt when I looked at Bobby (the racing heart, the heated blood rush, etc.). What was up with that?

Before he disappeared around the corner, Peter looked back and gave me a smile. "Nice necklace by the way," he said.

My mouth dropped open slightly. Was he saying that it was _he_ who had given me the necklace? My brain was too muddled from the stressful events of the day to process it all. I stumbled into my room and collapsed on my bed, clothes and all. I closed my eyes tightly and did not open them again until morning.

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**Well that certainly did not turn out the way I thought it would. Really, it didn't. Hope you enjoyed it! Review and tell me what you think!**


	7. Chapter VI

**A/N: I have no excuse.**

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****Chapter VI**

_A long hallway stretched out in front of me. I could see no one around and the lights were on their dim setting reserved for nighttime. Everyone was asleep or gone, which accounted for the zero sound. My bare feet made strange sticky noises as I tried my best to walk quietly across the wooden floor._

_At the end of the hallway was a huge window. I recognized it as the window that was at the end of the hallway outside my room. There was a man standing in front of it, his silhouette black against the moonlight streaming in from outside. As I stopped and stared at him, massive wings lifted and spread out. And as majestic and awesome as they looked, I could tell they were drooping slightly, as though the man were depressed._

_I took a step forward but before I could go any further, he turned around slightly so that now I was facing his profile. I could see his bare chest rise and fall as though he had just taken a very deep breath and let it out slowly._

"_I can't believe you would do this Shard," he said in a soft voice, barely above a whisper, yet someone I could hear it as clearly as though he were standing right behind me. I inhaled sharply as he turned to completely face me, stepping to the side so I could see him more clearly. I walked forward until I stood next to him. Then my eyes widened with horror for there in front of me was the winged man from my dream. And his chest and face were covered with blood and small shards of glass. His wings were ripped and torn and the expression he gave me was one of hurt, pain, and confusion._

A scream ripped through my room, but it was not my own. It made me sit up straight in my bed, clamping my hands over my ears and gritting my teeth against the pain. There was only one girl I knew of that could make a scream like that: Siryn. And if Siryn was screaming at this time of night, that meant trouble.

I pulled my covers back and stood, debating whether or not to go out and investigate. Even though the climate was getting warmer, I still shivered in my pajama bottoms and over-large t-shirt. While I was still thinking over what I should do, Kitty burst into my room without even opening the door.

"The school is under attack," she cried, grabbing my hand and yanking me through the wall before I could respond. Giving a small yelp of pain from my arm being practically pulled from its socket, I hurtled through several walls with Kitty as she dragged me across the school. I tried to stop stumbling and keep up with her, but the sensation of going through solid objects kept knocking me off balance.

We finally arrived in a hallway full of teeming students. They were all headed in the direction of a trap door Peter had opened. I saw Logan handing him a small body and gasped when I saw that it was Jones, limp and unconscious.

I stopped short, bringing the still running Kitty crashing back into me. With both tumbled against the wall and I caught her under her arms before she could fall all the way to the ground.

"Thanks," she said breathlessly with a grin. (She was _still_ grinning?) I just nodded wordlessly and took off after the rest of the kids exciting the school through the dark tunnel I could see going through the wall. I could hear the shouts and screams of students throughout the school and a shiver ran up my spine.

Most of the kids were already halfway down the tunnel when I entered. There weren't a lot of children and I hoped that meant either more were coming or that there were more escape hatches than this. That was when I noticed Bobby was missing. Come to think of it, Rogue and John were missing too. My chest tightened as I came tumbling out the other end of the tunnel and realized little Artie was not in the group either.

"Get into the trees!" Peter's voice boomed out and the younger ones hastened to follow him. I, however, turned around and started back for the tunnel.

"Madi, no!" Kitty cried, grabbing my arm.

"Artie's still back there!" I shouted, too intent on getting away from her and after him that I forgot momentarily that I did not speak to her. Kitty was so stunned by the sound of my voice, she let her grip slacken and I was able to wrench myself away, crawling up into the tunnel before standing and taking off into it.

Behind me I could hear Kitty calling for Peter. I did not care. I could still hear the screams of the kids as whoever was attacking the school came upon them, still in their beds, completely unaware of what was going on. In my mind's eye I could see Artie, unconscious like Jones, being carted off by huge men in black masks and dark clothing.

This mental picture was a little silly, but it helped spur me on. I was almost to the end of the tunnel when I was grabbed from behind.

"No!" I screamed, kicking and flailing my arms as I was lifted bodily from the ground.

The person holding me grunted but started to drag me backwards. My bare feet bounced and slammed against the hard iron of the tunnel floor and I cried out as the shock ran through my heels and up my legs. Peter, for it was obviously Peter at this point, hefted me up onto his shoulder and took off back down the tunnel. I pounded on his back in my frustration, knowing I could never get out of his hold.

"Put me down! I have to back for Artie! PUT ME DOWN!"

However loud I pleaded, kicked, and pounded, Peter refused to let me go. I don't think I'd ever been madder at a person in my life. I slammed my elbow into the back of his head, but he must have sensed that coming because his head morphed into that strange metal and sent painful vibrations up my arm. I cried out again and his grip shifted so that I was further down his back and couldn't elbow his head again.

After we left the tunnel and he still did not let me down, I gave up. Bristling with annoyance, frustration, and anger I simply hung there, trying not to think of the horrible things those intruders might be doing to little Artie.

When Peter finally put me down in a small clearing where the other kids had gathered, I was back to my surly silence. He did not look at me as he walked over to where a couple of younger kids were attempting to make a fire. He knelt beside them and started to help. I sat down against a tree and drew my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them and shivering in the chilly air.

Kitty walked over and stood in front of me, looking concerned. I realized she did not have her glasses and wondered how well she could see me.

"I'm sure Artie will be okay," she said, but her frown and the hesitancy in her voice made her very unconvincing.

I looked away, not wanting her to see the tears springing into my eyes. Jones was lying a few feet away, and I saw him beginning to stir. Standing, I left Kitty and walked over to him, sitting down beside him and brushing the hair off his forehead. His glasses were askew and dirty and so I carefully took them off him and wiped them with the bottom of my sleep shirt.

As I was doing so, his eyes fluttered open and he blinked blearily.

"Who's there!" he cried out suddenly, sitting up abruptly and startling me. I shoved the glasses back on his face, almost poking him in the eye while doing so. When he saw that it was me, he visibly relaxed, drawing his legs closer so he was sitting cross-legged.

"What happened?" he asked seriously, and I was grateful as I did not know how I would handle someone freaking out on me when I was already so freaked out myself.

"Some people attacked the school," Peter spoke up from where he still crouched next to the now flickering fire. "They shot tranquilizing darts into the children. Logan saved you, Jones," he added, nodding at the boy beside me.

"Do we know where they were taken?" Kitty asked, turning to Peter quizzically.

Peter simply shook his head. Jones touched my arm and I looked over at him. "They took Artie, didn't they?" he asked, his face solemn.

I swallowed hard, but before I could venture to say anything, Kitty spoke up. "Maybe he got away with some of the other groups," she said, but she still did not sound very convincing.

Jones drew up his knees and leaned against me slightly. I put my arm around him and held him close. The other kids sat huddled together on the other side of the fire: their eyes wide, their faces frightened. Kitty walked over and began speaking softly to them. Slowly they began to relax and a couple of them actually lay down to attempt sleep.

Peter glanced over at me, his expression cautious. I glared back as hard as I could, remembering well what had happened just a few minutes ago in the tunnel. I rubbed my aching elbow against my leg.

It took a while but eventually all the kids dropped off to sleep. I was uncomfortably left awake alone with Peter. Kitty had curled up with the younger ones, her arm draped around a small girl's shoulders. Jones had dropped off with his head in my lap. I stroked his hair gently as he slept, doing my best to avoid Peter's eyes.

After a while though, he came over and approached me. "Hey," he said, then paused, unsure of how to go on.

I glanced sidelong at him with an intense frown. "Don't you _ever_ do that to me again," I told him in a low intense voice.

To his credit he did not even flinch; he just looked at me with serious dark eyes. "I would do it again in a heartbeat if it insured your safety," he said so bluntly I could only stare at him for a moment.

"I could have saved Artie," I muttered finally, glancing back down at Jones.

"You don't know that," Peter said, more gently this time than before. I did not answer him; I had already spoken too much anyway.

Concentrating on fingering a specific strand of Jones's hair, I willed Peter to go away and leave me alone. After what seemed like an eternity, he did. Moving to the other side of the fire, he picked up a stick and settled down against a tree, positioned so that he could see all of us.

I gently lifted Jones's head from my lap and laid it down on the grass. He murmured something unintelligible and buried his face in the dirt. I winced as his glasses pressed into his head so I carefully took them off him and folded them up, hoping he would not roll over them in his sleep as I placed them beside him.

Lying down behind him, I wrapped my arm around his shoulder and drew him in for warmth as well as comfort. I buried my face in his small back and exhaled deeply. Even as I tried to forget everything and fall back asleep, I could not stop thinking about everything. It made it extremely difficult to relax.

I was afraid mostly. Afraid of what my dream meant; afraid of what might happen to Artie; afraid of what might happen to us; and afraid of these strange feelings Peter kept giving me. I wanted to punch him and hug him at the same time. For some stupid reason I wanted him to lie down behind me and Jones and wrap his arm around us so that I could feel safe.

What particularly surprised me was the fact that I had yet to worry about Bobby. Where could he be? Was he taken by the intruders as well? And Rogue and John? Were they taken too?

Would anything return to normal? Well, as normal as a life as a freak could get?

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**A little shorter than normal but still an update so that's good right? Right?? Review and tell me what you think and I'll do my absolute best to update sooner rather than later. Er, yeah . . .**


	8. Chapter VII

**A/N: Ha! I got this one up sooner than I thought I would. Stayed up reeeeeeeally late to get it done too. And look! It's long! Madi kinda babbled on a bit. Once she started I couldn't get her to stop! ;P Enjoy!**

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****Chapter VII**

When I woke up I forgot for a moment where I was. The grass beneath me was scratchy and uncomfortable, and the wet dew soaked though my shirt. Sitting up slowly, I rubbed my eyes to clear them, then looked around me. I remembered then. The fire had died and Peter still sat where he had settled himself down the previous night. His eyes were still open and I wondered if he had fallen asleep like that. Then he glanced over at me, and I could see the circles underneath his eyes. He had stayed up all night.

Glancing over at the other kids, I saw Kitty had disappeared. I stood slowly. I did not want to talk, least of all to Peter, but her lack of presence disturbed me. With a sigh, I stepped over Jones, who was still asleep curled up like a puppy, and walked over to Peter, crouching down beside him.

"Where's Kitty?" I asked after a long pause, my voice rough from sleep. I deliberately avoided looking at him, preferring to stare into the charred, wet logs in front of us.

"She went off to check on the school; see if it's safe to go back."

Having received my answer, I stood and made my way back to Jones, ignoring the burning sensation on my back where I knew he was staring. I sat down behind Jones and quietly waited. Thankfully it was not long before the other children began to awaken, complain of empty stomachs, sore backs, and wet clothing. Jones stirred and then sat up, feeling around for his glasses before finding them and putting them on.

He looked over at me. "No teachers came for us," he observed seriously.

I touched his arm reassuringly. "We'll be okay," I said, trying to believe that myself.

Kitty ran into the camp. She bent over at the middle and grabbed at her knees, breathing heavily. Peter stood and walked over to her, putting his hand on her back. She grabbed his arm and pulled herself up. "The school," she said, between breaths, "is empty. All the windows are broken though, there's glass _everywhere_," here she looked pointedly at all our bare feet, "and there's a melting wall of ice in the hallway we left for some reason. I'm guessing Bobby did something before he left . . . or was taken."

I felt my breath hitch in my throat. Jones looked over at me sympathetically. I instantly felt idiotic. Now was not the time to go worrying about some boy I had a massive crush on. I needed to be thinking of myself and the kids that needed my help. I stood and walked over to Kitty and Peter.

"Let's get these kids back then," I said flatly. Taking in their surprised looks and dismissing them, I went on. "Don't worry about the broken glass. I'll take care of it." With that I turned slightly, holding out my hand to Jones. He stood slowly and walked over to me, hesitantly taking my hand, obviously feeling self-conscious under the gaze of so many eyes. The other kids had heard me speak and were now staring openly. I just stared at them all back before taking Jones and walking back toward the school.

It took a moment, but soon everyone was following. We did not go straight to the tunnel, but around it to the front of the school. It was a longer walk than some of us had anticipated and Peter ended up carrying some kids, one on his back and two in his arms. However tired he was, he held up immensely well. I was impressed.

Finally we arrived on the front lawn of the school. Kitty was not kidding about the glass and windows. Most of them were shattered completely. A few of the ones higher up were mostly intact, but were missing several big shards. I swallowed hard. I had hoped she had been exaggerating. There was no way I could fix all this.

Jones gave my hand a slight squeeze and I looked down into his eyes. He smiled faintly. "You can do this," he said encouragingly. I nodded and squared my shoulders, looking at the school again. Closing my eyes in concentration, I slipped my hand out of Jones's and lifted both of them out toward the school.

My eyelids squeezed down tightly as I pictured every window whole, every vase unbroken, every mirror smooth. A sharp pain shot through my head and I could hear gasps behind me. I did not dare look, afraid that if I let go, everything would fall to pieces, even my mind. The pain was so intense it caused me to stagger slightly. Someone put an arm around me, supporting me. It was big and muscular, but I tired not to let that distract me.

I felt something wet trickle out of my nose, but I just concentrated harder, not knowing when to finish. All I knew was that there was a sense of brokenness everywhere. Shards of glass in small places as well as large. I had to fix everything; I had to mend it all. Otherwise who would be safe?

"Madison," I heard a deep voice in my ear. "Madison stop, you're done. You've done it."

But I could still feel broken pieces. There was a broken dish somewhere, a figurine, a hand mirror. They had to be fixed.

"Madison," the voice was more urgent now. "Stop! The windows are fixed. What are you doing?"

I could not take the pain anymore. It burst through my head like a shock wave, shaking my entire body and taking it down. More wet stuff trickled from my nose, but soon I could feel nothing but the sensation of falling . . .

000000

When I opened my eyes next I was lying in my room, blinking up at the ceiling. It looked familiar, but it took a moment for me to realize that it was _my_ ceiling. I was in my room inside the school. I wondered vaguely how I had gotten there. Sitting up slowly, I looked over and saw Peter in a chair next to me. Oh. That's how.

He stood when he saw me moving. "Are you okay?" he asked gruffly.

I nodded my head slowly, then stopped when an intense headache overwhelmed me. I clutched at my forehead, but after a moment it was gone and I was fine. I nodded again.

"Then what the heck were you thinking?" Peter boomed, startlingly me and causing my headache to return, although not as strongly. "Do you know you repaired every frickin' thing in the mansion? You almost _died_. Do you hear me? _Died_! You could have frickin' _killed_ yourself over a couple of dinner plates!"

I was so stunned by this uncharacteristic anger and flow of words from the normally stoic and silent Peter that I could do nothing but stare dumbly at him.

He ran his hands agitatedly through his hair. "The windows would have been enough, Madison," he told me, scolded me. "Things like plates and mirrors and collectables can be replaced. We just needed the glass out of the way, not frickin' reapplied!"

I stared down at my hands, my head throbbing painfully. Apparently that little speech had gotten something out of his system, for he calmed down then, sitting back in the chair and burying his head in his hands. I chewed on my lip for a while, not sure what to say exactly, or if I should say anything at all.

Finally I felt I _should_ say something, if only because I had worried him so much. I swallowed hard and then forced out a weak, "I'm sorry." He did not respond, or even look up. I wondered then if he had even heard me, so I tried again.

"I'm sorry."

He looked up then, and I noticed his eyes were now blood-shot as well as exhausted. The circles underneath his eyes had darkened. I wondered then how long I had been out. Before I could ask however, Jones flung open the door to my room.

"Madi!" He cried, running across the room and leaping onto my bed to give me a hug that was more of a stranglehold. I hugged him back, then pulled him away, the lack of air to my brain was not helping the headache.

"Why is everyone so concerned?" I asked then, wincing at the pain in my head. "I only fainted."

"Yeah, but your nose and ears were bleeding and you didn't wake up for _three whole days_!" Jones exclaimed, holding up three fingers to emphasis his point. I blinked blankly then looked over at Peter questioningly. He nodded.

"It's true," he said, his voice now gruff again.

"But your ability was awesome, man!" Jones said excitedly. "You should have seen it! Every glass thing in the house! You have to be at _least_ a Class Four mutant. At least, that's what Kitty says. And she should know because she's pretty high in the classes as well. And she also said—"

"Whoa, whoa, Jones, please, slow down," I begged, clutching at my head again. "I've got a killer headache." I rubbed my temples for emphasis, but that only caused me to wince. Peter suddenly looked guilty.

"I didn't even think . . . I'll get you something for that," he said quickly and then left before I could stop him. Figuring it was just as well, I turned back to Jones who was sitting on the edge of the bed, swinging his legs back and forth idly.

"Are the others back yet?" I asked. He stopped swinging and shook his head, sighing slightly.

"No. None of the teachers at least. Most of the kids had gotten out through secret tunnels and they came back. Kitty and Peter have kinda been in charge of everyone. They took roll . . . only six or so are missing, not including Bobby, Rogue, and John." He paused. "Artie's one of those missing," he added.

I reached over and squeezed his arm. "He's going to be okay," I said, more for my own sake then for his I'm afraid. "I'm sure the professors are gone to rescue them."

Jones nodded but did not say anything else. Peter returned then with a tall glass of water and a couple capsules. He handed them to me. When I took the glass I noticed it looked rather strange. Turning it, I saw that it was somewhat lopsided. The bottom was longer than it should have been, and the sides curved out more on one side than the other. I looked up at Peter in confusion. The corners of his lips jerked slightly.

"I'd say you need more practice. Several of the cups are like that. Some of the plates are more square-shaped than anything else, and two bathroom mirrors have already been reported to be triangles instead of ovals."

"Apparently I failed geometry," I joked weakly, taking the pills and washing them down with the water. Jones laughed.

"Hey, you're talking to him," the kid observed after I had swallowed. The pain did not immediately go away, but already I could feel the pressure lessening. I did not answer right away, instead finding the cup incredibly interesting indeed. Peter did not venture to say anything either.

"You know, it's rather immature to pull this silent act on everyone," Jones stated flatly. "I haven't said anything before, but it _has_ been several months. Shouldn't you at least _try_ to make more friends than Artie and me?"

I stared at him, mouth open, wondering if I could cite him on assaulting a recovering patient. I could not believe his audacity! But then . . . he was exactly right. I had never tried to make any new friends. Jones and Artie had been enough for me.

"Artie's gone now," Jones said, and I saw the words were hard for him to say. "But what if it had been _both_ of us? It nearly was you know. Who would you have then?"

Jones got off the bed and faced me and Peter. He pointed to the older boy. "This guy has been there for you from the beginning. Him _and_ Kitty. They both want to be your friends. So why won't you just let them? Are you afraid they'll hurt you or something?" He studied my face shrewdly. I avoided his gaze, preferring to continue my staring down at the cup in my hands.

"Because they won't," he added. "They like you. And they want to help you. So let them." With that he left.

I let out a shaky breath. Peter was silent. I wanted him to say something, do anything. But he didn't. He just stood there and waited. I took in another deep breath and let it out slowly, this time more steadily.

"I've been through several foster homes, you know," I said before I could think better of it. I didn't want to tell him. Heaven knows how much I didn't want to tell him. But Jones was right. I did need someone, and Peter seemed like the perfect choice at the moment. I just hoped I wasn't making the biggest mistake of my life . . . well, second biggest. "It was hard to place me . . . because of my mutation and because I wouldn't talk to anyone. They would get frustrated with me. Find out they weren't cut out to be 'that kind of foster parent.'" I sighed and set my cup down on the bedside table.

"So yeah, I have abandonment issues. One set of parents had me go to a shrink once. He went on and on about how I needed to open myself up more to people and learn to trust them. How I shouldn't base my comparison of the entire human race on a couple of lousy foster parents. Of course then those parents up and left me." I shrugged. "You get used to it after a while."

Peter slowly sat back down on the chair. His legs probably gave out from hearing so many words come out of my mouth at one time. However when I glanced over at him, I saw sympathy in his eyes. Surprisingly not pity. I wondered if it would be wise to go on, but I figured I had gone this far so I might as well finish it.

"I finally ended up with Carol and Steve. They weren't so bad. At least, it took them six months before they finally threw me out. But at least it was to the School, right? Their final act of kindness or whatever. I know I sound all bitter and everything, but, I mean, it's their loss. That's what you're going to say, right? That I don't need to blame myself and a bunch of stuff like that, right?"

Peter just continued to look at me, patiently waiting for me to be done. For some reason that ruffled my feathers. The shrink had said all this stuff about how it wasn't my fault, and how it was my old foster parents's fault for giving up a special girl like me, and how I couldn't blame myself for their mistakes. I thought Peter would at least say something along those lines. But he didn't. He only looked at me, his tired eyes soft and kind.

I looked away. "Well I know it's not my fault people didn't want me," I said into my shoulder. "And I don't blame myself for them sending me away. But it's not really their fault either. I have problems. Big problems. I've got a mistake in my past that I didn't want to deal with so I took it out on the first foster family that tried to bring me in. That's what started the whole cycle. So no, I don't blame myself for the foster families not wanting me. I blame myself for the reason I needed a foster family in the first place."

I stopped there. That was all he needed to know really. He would see that I was too much of a basket case and would go away. He would see I was too broken to form any solid friendships. He would see that the reason I surrounded myself with little kids was because they were unassuming and accepting and I did not have to worry about them trying to "fix" me or psychoanalyze me. He would see that I did not trust myself to let go and be someone's friend. And then he would leave.

Imagine my surprise when I looked over and saw he was still sitting there. I realized it would take a bigger push. I frowned slightly. "What are you still doing here then? Can't you see I'm in denial and aren't worth your time and effort? So just go away and—"

The next thing I knew, Peter was leaning forward and cutting off my next barb with a kiss. I was so stunned I could only sit there and take it as electricity ran up my entire body. My headache started throbbing anew, and I think I even stopped breathing. When his soft, gentle lips pulled away from my stiff ones (way too soon in my numb opinion), he left them burning. I stared at him, completely speechless once more.

"You worry too much," he said, standing.

And then he left; just like that. I started breathing again, but could not understand what had just happened. I had laid almost all my issues out onto him, and he just . . . kissed me.

I was still staring dumbly at the wall when Jones came back in. He took one look at my frozen features and grinned.

"Told you he cared," he said smugly.

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**So yeah, it ended rather abruptly, but it felt like a good place to stop. Man, I guess seven-plus years of not talking builds up! She had a lot of words holed up inside of her. Review and tell me what you think!**


	9. Chapter VIII

**A/N: So I had this chapter done last night, but the site wouldn't let me upload it. It seems to be finally working now so here's the next chapter! You can thank Bobby Lu for it, as I decided to hurry up and write it for her to read while she had down time from her hectic life. Sorry it didn't work out last night Lu!**

**Madi's kind of a mess in this chapter. But considering what happens, I can't entirely blame her. We all have our bad days. ;P**

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****Chapter VIII**

It was another three days before I felt fit enough to get out of bed. I still had headaches every once and a while, but they were not as severe as the first ones had been. After a while I got used to them and they just became an annoying pain in the back of my skull that I took aspirin for. Peter came and went constantly, bringing me whatever I wanted or needed. Kitty came as well and sat at the end of my bed, chatting away while I read a book or watched her, smiling occasionally. My outburst to Peter had drained me. I was not entirely sure I could go back to just talking again. However during those three days, I eventually gave Kitty the key to my lips and started answering some of her questions out loud. She was beaming the entire conversation.

Jones looked pleased that I was talking, but as the days went on and there was no news of the professors and the captured children, he grew more and more worried for Artie. I had to admit I did too. I asked Peter and Kitty constantly if any news had come, or if their whereabouts were known. Nothing.

Finally, on the seventh day since the attack, the jet landed. Peter, Kitty, Jones, and I were the first ones on the scene. We watched with bated breath as the ramp slowly lowered. One by one our professors made their way down the ramp. There was Storm, walking with a blue, tattooed mutant. My eyes grew wide, that was new. Then came Professor Xavier, being carried by Logan. Professor Scott was beside him, head down. Bobby and Rogue were next, followed by the children that had gone missing. They all looked solemn and sad. I wondered what had happened.

And then I realized: Dr. Grey wasn't there. My throat was tight as I saw Peter walk slowly up to Storm. They spoke in low terms and Kitty stepped up beside him. I watched as her eyes grew wide and a small gasp escaped her trembling lips. A cold feeling settled in my stomach. Jones's shoulders drooped and I could tell he had come to the same conclusion I had. Looking at Logan and Scott's faces had told me everything I needed to know.

Dr. Grey was gone. While I tried to process this, a small body flung itself at me, almost knocking me over. I took a step back to steady myself and placed my hand on the dark head of Artie, barely recognizing that he was there. Realizing that I wasn't responding, Artie pulled back and shook me, tears standing out in his eyes.

"Madi! Madi! Madi!" he cried, trying to catch my attention. Jones saw what was happening and came to sooner than I did. He grabbed Artie's wrists and pulled him away from me, slinging and arm over his friend's shoulder as he led him and the other kids into the mansion.

I remained where I was. Dr. Grey had been a good friend to me. She had never pushed me to talk, yet always seemed to be listening to me. Sweet and kind, Jean was a favorite among us. We all loved her. And now she was gone.

Kitty noticed me standing alone and came over. She looked up at me with sad eyes full of tears and tried to hug me. I pushed her away gently, stepping back, still unable to process the fact that another loved one had died. I ended up stepping back into someone. Instead of moving away, that someone wrapped his arms around me. I realized then that it was Bobby. Turning, I buried my face in his chest, doing my best to hold back my tears but failing. I didn't know if Rogue was standing right there and frankly, I didn't care. I was in the arms of the young man whom I secretly loved with all my heart was comforted just being in his presence and knowing that he cared.

He said nothing, simply rested his chin on top of my head and sighed deeply.

I don't remember when we started moving, but the next thing I knew, Bobby was carrying me into the School. I rested my head on his shoulder, my arms around his neck. My headaches were back in earnest now, and with each step he took I had to cover a wince. A few got by though, and Bobby frowned.

"What's wrong?" he asked, but I didn't reply, only buried my face in his now damp shirt.

"She's worn out, poor thing," Kitty said from somewhere behind me. "She's been having these headaches ever since she fixed all the glass in the school."

"_She_ fixed those?" I could hear disbelief in Rogue's tone. I bristled slightly in indignation.

"I believe it," came Bobby's peaceful words. My heart soared and my headache lessened. I wasn't on cloud nine, but I was pretty sure I was at a close seven.

Bobby laid me down on my bed, tucking me under the covers, and smoothing my hair. A shiver ran up my spine as I looked up into those gorgeous blue eyes.

"Get some rest," he said tenderly, running his knuckle across my cheek with a gentle smile. I was happy to see Rogue was not in the room. He started to turn away, but I couldn't bear to see him go. Grabbing his hand, I spoke.

"Wait."

Startled at hearing my voice, he paused, glancing down at me quizzically. I propped myself up on my arm and tugged on his hand.

"Stay with me?" I pleaded, wishing my eyes were a more attractive color. I saw him glance toward the door and I tightened my grip. "Just for a little while? Until I fall asleep." The headache was back, pounding, throbbing, searing.

He gave in, nodding and settling in the chair beside the bed, taking my hand in both of his own and rubbing it gently. "How's your head?" he asked as I lay back down.

"Better," I answered truthfully. _Now that you're here_ I didn't add, even though I wanted to. I stared at him, and he stared at me. I beckoned him closer. He obliged, moving to sit on the bed.

"Where did you guys go?" I asked, my voice soft so he had to bend down slightly to hear me. I caught a whiff of his scent. It wasn't exactly pleasant, but seeing he had just gotten back from a hard, unanticipated trip, that was understandable. Still, it was _his_ scent and that made all the difference.

"A couple different places," Bobby answered, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "I think Professor Xavier is going to brief everyone about it later." He looked down at me and his eyes were warm.

"I heard you took good care of the kids," he said.

I nodded. "Yeah, but I wish you had been there. I worried about you." I shut my mouth quickly, wondering how that had come out. I was tired, worn out, heartbroken, and in pain. My brain wasn't functioning correctly. Maybe it would have been better just not to have said anything at all. Before I knew it I was going to ruin everything.

"Yeah, I wasn't entirely sure what was going to happen to us myself," Bobby admitted, apparently catching nothing in my words.

Even as I breathed a silent sigh of relief, my body was going into overdrive. Having him so close, after such an ordeal. I wanted him to know. No, I _needed_ him to know. So there could be one good thing in this entire, horrible, painful week. In my weakened, vulnerable state I couldn't imagine a scenario in which Bobby did not reciprocate my feelings. That was a mistake.

"Bobby," I said quietly.

"Mm?" he questioned, leaning closer like before to catch my words.

I did not think, just reacted. Lifting my arms and placing them around his neck, I brought his lips down onto mine, meeting him halfway. I could feel him stiffen, surprised no doubt, but it did not completely register, me being so caught up in wanting this to be good and right. Wanting it to be something wonderful, so that I could have something to ease the pain forever.

Only I made it worse. After only a short second, Bobby pulled away, reaching back to grab my wrists and place my hands at my sides. When I opened my eyes, I saw his were troubled, sad, and confused.

"Madison . . ." he said, but then couldn't continue. Standing abruptly, he ran a hand agitatedly through his hair. "Feel better," he muttered, before practically running out the door. I sat there, stunned. Again, my heart broke. I turned and flung my face into my pillow, sobbing. It was not like me to cry so much, but I was weak, tired, and aching and the floodgates just collapsed, leaving me exhausted.

000000

When I woke up I didn't remember exactly what had happened. I sat up slowly, looking around my room, thinking that I had just woken up and that everything before had been a hazy dream of some kind. But then I noticed I was in day clothes, and my lips felt ice cold. Then I remembered, and I felt like crying again.

I did not get a chance though, for thankfully a dark head peered around the door as it slowly opened. As soon as I saw Artie, guilt filled me. I had been so wrapped up in my own selfish feelings, I had completely forgotten about the small boy. I smiled and beckoned him inside the room. He needed no further bidding. Flying across the room, he tackled me on my bed, grabbing me around the neck in a strangle-hold of a hug.

Hugging him just as tightly back, I buried my face in his hair, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Holding him eased some of the pain in my chest. I felt it alleviate bit by small bit until it was just a dull ache that I knew I could handle. I had been handling one all my life.

I pulled Artie away after a minute to get a good look at him. He was a little dirty, although I could see evidence of Kitty (or Jones) attempting to clean him up. He looked thin and hungry and I wondered where he had been and what had happened to him.

"Are you okay?" I asked, pushing back his hair gently. "Are you hurt? Are you alright?"

He nodded vigorously. "This old fat guy had us locked up," he explained to me. "It was a really small room and we couldn't get out or it would've shocked us. Some of us tried." He held out his hands and I saw with chagrin red sores.

"You need to get those fixed up," I said. "Dr. Grey—" I cut myself off, inhaling sharply. Artie just looked at me expectantly. I wondered if he realized yet the fact that Dr. Grey was never coming back. Leaving that name hanging in the air, I got out of bed and led Artie out of the room and down to the infirmary.

It felt eerie stepping into the room that I knew so well but only as the place where Dr. Grey worked. Seeing the room devoid of her presence caused the pain in my chest to flare up again. It felt so . . . empty. Like something very important was missing.

Doing my best to ignore it, I set Artie on the examination table and looked around for something that would help with the sores. I found some antibiotic medicine and a few bandages. I put the medicine on his hands and wrapped them up so he could still use his fingers. He bent them experimentally.

"Thank you," he said with a slight grin. As I stood there and looked at him, I realized just how close I had come to losing him too. Having someone close to you die really put things in perspective. I realized that I would probably cease living anything happened to my friends. Taking that into account, I was suddenly filled with immense gratitude to whoever was watching over my little Artie.

I wrapped my arms around the boy once more and gave him a small, tight hug. Then I led him out of the room and toward the cafeteria, knowing he had to be hungry after spending all that time in captivity.

On the way to the cafeteria, we passed Peter. For some reason a sick, guilty feeling twisted in my cut as I remembered my earlier display with Bobby. I couldn't look Peter in the eye and did not answer when he greeted us, simply pulled Artie down the hall faster. It was only when we reached the cafeteria that I realized I was breathing hard.

I then felt bad. Peter had no idea what had transpired between me and Bobby earlier that afternoon. I was not going to tell and I was pretty sure Bobby wouldn't either. Did I have to lose both of them because of a stupid mistake in a moment of weakness?

Realizing that these thoughts were giving me another headache, I banished it from my mind, deciding that I would concentrate on Artie and Artie alone for the rest of the day. And so that's what I did. We ate together, went swimming together. I even allowed him to talk me into playing some basketball with him. Jones joined us for that.

After it got dark, the three of us went to our usual spot in front of the TV. We had had to get another one after I tried to fix everything glass. Apparently things like TV screens and computer monitors just weren't the same after they've been damaged. Jones turned the TV on and flipped to a channel that was playing an old comedy. I was pleased with his choice. I had to admit, it felt good to laugh after a week of so much heart (and head) ache.

The movie was called _Arsenic and Old Lace_. It had me and Jones almost rolling on the floor laughing. Most of the comedy went over Artie's head, but seeing us laugh so hard made him laugh too.

And that was how we spent our night, laughing together on that couch where we had first become friends. And the best part was: I didn't think of Peter or Bobby the entire time.

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**By the by, _Arsenic and Old Lace_ is one of my all-time favorite Carey Grant movies. XD Review and tell me what you think of the chapters!**


	10. Chapter IX

**A/N: Hey ya'll! Sorry this took forever to get up. Just a warning, this is the darkness before the dawn. ;P**

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****Chapter IX**

I spent the memorial service in my room. Sitting in the chair beside the bed, I stared off into the distance, not talking to anyone who passed by. After a while my curiosity got the better of me, and I made my way out to the recreation room where a window overlooked the grounds. From there I could see a group of people seated in front of a small platform where Professor Xavier sat, talking to the crowd.

A small hand slipped into mine. I jumped slightly and then looked down, relaxing when I saw that it was only Artie.

"Weren't you and Jones going to the service?" I asked, surprised to see him there.

He shrugged. "It was boring."

"And standing up here with me isn't?" I smirked faintly, but it faded when he did not answer. I sighed then, looking back out. I could see Peter's back, right beside the smaller one of Kitty's. Bobby and Rogue were on the other side, but I only glanced briefly at them before turning away.

I walked over to one of the couches and collapsed on one, pulling a cushion over and hugging it to my stomach. Artie came over and sat down beside me.

"You want to play Foosball?" he asked, glancing at the table.

"No," I said, staring at the blank TV.

"Me either."

There was a pause.

"You want to get some food?"

I shook my head. "No." My reflection looked gloomy in the shiny surface of the black screen.

"Me either."

I had to smile slightly at that. Turning to look at him, I took in his melancholy features. Suddenly I felt guilty and rather selfish. Here I was feeling sorry for myself, when Artie and the rest of the students had lost a beloved doctor as well. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"How are those hands doing?" I asked, picking up his arm and inspecting the hands. They had healed remarkably fast. I wondered if that was part of his powers. All I knew he had was that forked tongue, which did not seem to do him any good at all.

"They're fine," Artie said, pulling his arm away from me. He was frowning slightly.

Before I could ask what was wrong, Jones came into the room. He sat down on the other side of me with a sigh. Blinking, he turned the TV on and started flipping through the channels. I turned toward him with a frown of my own.

"Hey," I said, wondering how he was holding up. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," he said shortly, blinking rapidly. The channels flew by so fast Artie started to look dizzy. My frown deepened.

"What's wrong?" I asked, looking at him and then at Artie. Artie stared down at his shoes innocently. Jones's jaw tightened. Something was wrong. I jostled Jones's shoulder lightly.

"Hey," I said more firmly. "What's wrong?"

The TV shut off abruptly. Silence enveloped the room in a rather stifling way.

"Peter saw you," Jones forced out through gritted teeth.

I blinked in confusion. "Excuse me?"

He turned to look at me, frowning in disappointment. "I went with him to go check on you after you broke down yesterday. We followed Bobby to your room." His eyes were filled with accusation behind his glasses. "We _saw_ you kiss him."

My mind went totally blank. I couldn't think of anything to say besides: "oh." I glanced over at Artie. He continued to stare at his shoes. I wondered if he even knew the significance of what had just happened. Obviously Jones had told him _something_. Suddenly I got angry. My love life, or lack thereof, was none of Jones's business. And now, thanks to him, Peter, and probably Kitty as well, knew of my humiliating episode with Bobby.

I flushed and stood. "Yeah well, I don't have to explain myself to you," I snapped, my pent-up emotions getting the better of me. "I've liked Bobby ever since I came here. There's nothing wrong with what I did."

Jones's eyes flashed with anger. He stood as well, glaring at me. I realized with a start that he had grown over the past few months. He and I almost stood nose to nose. "For one thing," he said, doing his best to stay calm. "Bobby already has a girlfriend. And for another thing, Peter likes _you_. And he has since you came here."

"Uh-huh. And how would you know? You guys have sleepovers and talk about your feelings while braiding each other's hair?" I realized that was hitting below the belt, but I couldn't take it back now.

Jones's flushed. "I know because I care about you and want you to be happy," he snapped. "But since you think you know what you want, I'll just leave you to it. Come on, Artie." He stormed over to the door. Artie gave me a slightly apologetic look before hopping off the couch and hurrying over to follow the older boy. Jones stopped in the doorway as Artie went on. He turned and nodded to my necklace.

"I know because he asked me what you would like for Christmas and I told him to get you that," he added, his voice cold. "I bet you thought it was from Bobby, huh?"

Without waiting for an answer, he left, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the rec room, my heart heavy, my head pounding. That is, I thought I was alone. As I turned away, a deep, quiet voice spoke from the doorway.

"We always want what we can't have."

I froze. "How much did you hear?" I asked, my voice small.

"Enough."

I grimaced and turned slightly, looking over into the grim face of Peter Rasputin. I felt even guiltier when I saw no accusation in his eyes, only a calm, sad acceptance.

"Peter," I choked out. "I didn't mean—I mean—I didn't want to hurt you. Ever. I just—"

"I know" came the gruff answer. He did not even sound angry. Just . . . resigned. "You just wanted him more than you wanted me." There was a slight twinge of hurt in his voice.

I lowered my head, balling my fists, and squeezing my eyes shut. Slowly, I raised my hands and unclasped the necklace. I gathered it up slowly in my hands and stared down at the rose. Swallowing hard, I held it out to him.

He shook his head, taking a step backwards. "It was a gift," he told me gently. "I don't regret my feelings for you. I won't take it back." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I can't wish you luck with Bobby," he added. "Rogue is my friend. She loves Bobby. And he loves her too."

I shut my eyes again. The screen of the TV wobbled slightly.

"But I know you're hurting. Maybe even more than the rest of us. So I hope you find peace, somehow."

When I opened my eyes, he was gone. I knew then what I had to do. I couldn't stay here. I was hurting too many people. Again. And no matter what my power was I couldn't fix it.

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I tried my best to sneak out during dinner, while all the kids were in the cafeteria. I put all my belongings into a backpack (I didn't own much) and headed for the door. I almost made it too, but Artie found me. He stood staring at me, wide-eyed.

Unable to face him, I turned my head away and stepped around him, hurrying to the front doors. I placed my hand on the handle and was about to pull back when a plaintive cry made me pause.

"Don't go!"

I turned slightly, catching a glimpse of Artie's tear-stained face before I had to look away. "It's for the best," I mumbled, knowing that was a lame line but not being able to think of anything better to say.

"No! Please stay. _Please_!"

The tears I had so stubbornly held back began to trickle down my face. I knelt quickly in front of him and gathered him up in my arms, holding him tightly. "I'm sorry," I murmured into his hair as I stroked his head gently. "I'm so sorry."

His small hands clung to me so tightly, I was afraid I would have to peel him off of me. "When will you be back?" he mumbled.

"I don't think I'm coming back, Artie," I said, choking on my words.

He suddenly ripped himself from my arms, glaring at me with red, watery eyes. "Don't say that!" he cried. "You have to come back. You _have_ to!"

"Artie—"

I reached for him again but he pulled away, his eyes blazing angrily, the tears continuing to fall. "I hate you!" he shouted. "I _hate_ you!"

He turned and fled, leaving me stunned. With a sob, I stood quickly. Turning before I could stop myself, I grabbed the handle and yanked open the door, stepping out into the darkness. I took several deep breaths, doing my best to stop crying. It did not help much.

Hiking the backpack further up my shoulder, I sprinted out through the courtyard. I knew I would not be able to go far on foot, but I couldn't bring myself to hotwire any of the cars. Besides, I didn't even know how to hotwire a car.

I ran up the road, not stopping until I stumbled over a rock and fell, face first in the asphalt. I rolled over onto the dirt and lay there, heavy, dry sobs wracking my body so hard it was painful. I had come to the school alone and now I was leaving it alone. Who knew so much could change in only half a year?

I had made good friends with Jones and Artie . . . and now they both hated me. I hadn't even tried to say goodbye to Jones. Somehow facing him would have been harder than my confrontation with Artie. And Kitty . . . she tried so hard to break through my shell. I had finally lowered my defenses enough to let her in and now this. She would probably forgive me, but would I be able to forgive myself?

Holding grudges was my fatal flaw, I realized. Only I didn't hold them against other people. I held them against myself. I couldn't forgive myself for my past wrongdoings. For my past sins . . . what was a few more to add to the pile?

None of those at the School knew about what had really happened to my parents, and I had never told anyone. It was better this way, it really was. If I had stayed longer . . . I might have actually told. Would they have looked at me the same? If I really thought about it, I realized they would have. Especially Peter . . .

Peter. The name caused another heaving sob. I had thrown away my friendship with him for a kiss that had given me no satisfaction whatsoever. And now he hated me too.

_No Madi, he doesn't_, my mind told me.

But my heart was too heavy to listen to it.

A noise in the trees beside me stopped my mental ramblings. I sat up slowly, swiping at my cheeks.

"Hello?" I called out hesitantly. "Is someone there?"

I reached into my backpack and pulled out the only weapon I had had on hand. A glass shard, broken from the bathroom mirror. It was somewhat broken itself, with spidery veins stretching over it. But that was good. That meant it would take less time to separate into a dozen glass daggers if I need them. I stood slowly. The sound paused, as if whoever it was had seen the weapon.

"You wouldn't really use that on me, would you?" a familiar cocky voice called out from the trees.

I lowered my hand in surprise. "John?" I asked, incredulously.

Pyro stepped out of the trees and grinned at me. "Hiya babe. Did you miss me?"

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**Ahhhhh! Cliffhanger!!!! You know that's right. ;) Review and tell me what you think of the chapter! (And yes, Madi is pretty crazy right about now. Just wait. This is only the beginning. }:} Mwuahahahahahahahaha!)**


	11. Chapter X

**A/N: I have no idea how long it was between the events of X2 and X3. A friend of mine said it was two years, and that makes sense to me, considering how much older everyone was (namely, Kitty and Jones). Bobby, Rogue, and Colossus seemed to have been graduated from actual school and were a part of the X-Men. Kitty is a sort of genius, so that's why she was in X-Men, even though she was two years younger.**

**Also, two years seems to be about right on how long it took them to perfect the cure. Experiments like that take a long time to perfect. So, two years may seem like a really long time to jump, but this amount of time felt right.**

**Warning: I'm upping the rating slightly for the events at the end of this chapter. Strong PG-13 there. I did my best to be as vague as possible, so it's not so bad, but still. Thought you should be warned.**

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****Chapter X**

_Two Years Later_

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__Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, the plaque read. It was dark. Night. It was storming. Rain fell. The drops hit the windows and sounded like a roar in the distance. There was no one in the school. It was completely abandoned. Save for two people._

_The winged man was running, glancing behind him periodically. He slid to a stop beside the large window at the end of the hall. His chest was heaving, his wings twitching. In the light of the jagged bolts dancing across the dark sky, one could see his bare chest was peppered in blood. The wings were torn and red stained the feathery whiteness. He was frightened, exhausted._

_He turned to flee down another hallway when he ground to a stop. The silence was deafening. Even the rain seemed to pause. Time slowed. Then he turned his head toward the window, his blue eyes wide with horror. Before he had a chance to react, the window burst inward, sending shards straight through his body._

_A scream echoed throughout the school, but it was not the winged man's scream, for he was dead before he could make a sound. This scream was different; it was a girl's scream._

_My scream._

The late afternoon sun was shining through my window and onto my face when I opened my eyes. With a grimace I turned away, blinking rapidly as the black spots obscured my vision. I sat up slowly, running a hand through my shortly cropped black hair, sending it sticking up in all directions. I stretched my arms over my head and then looked around my tiny apartment, looking for any broken glass. There was none. I was getting better at controlling my ability.

It was a good thing too, considering I worked around glasses. I glanced at my watch. Ugh. I was late for work again. I hurried out of bed and put on the black pants and shirt that I wore to tend the bar at Charlie's Mutant Restaurant and Bar. No Humans Allowed.

I had had to lie about my age to get the job, not turning 18 for another year. Thankfully my ability was so impressive (to the owner anyway) that he hired me on the spot. I thought this was a little strange, until I found out exactly _why_ he had hired me. Then I was ticked, but not enough to quit. I needed the money.

Charlie's had a strict rule about humans. If they cross the threshold, throw them out. Some of the other employees took this a little too literally, but I tried to be polite when some unfortunate homosapien wandered into Mutant territory. It was the least I could do considering I wasn't allowed to serve any of them. I thought this prejudice was somewhat hypocritical, especially considering how many of the Mutants that came to the bar complained about being rejected by humans, but I kept my mouth shut on that subject.

I walked in to work with a slight headache. The dream was still pulsing around the corners of my mind, but I pushed it back, not wanting to think about it. The nightmares had gotten worse since I had left the Academy, but I did not know how to make them go away, only how to keep from shattering every piece of glass in my apartment (which was not much since I used plastic when I could).

"Hey Shard," one of the regular patrons called to me as I made my way to the bar. "What kept you?"

"Overslept," I answered truthfully with a rueful smile.

I went by Shard nowadays. Madelyn Shard. I figured it was close enough to my real name that I would remember it. The "Shard" seemed fitting because of my ability. But also I felt like I had heard it before, someone had called me Shard once, although I could not exactly remember who or where. It just felt familiar, and safe.

My nickname was still Madi, though not many people called me that. Most called me Shard. They thought it was fitting too.

I stepped up behind the bar and poured the patron some more Scotch. Usually the bar did not open until four in the evening, but I made a mean cup of coffee and so Charlie told me to come early to make customer's a cup or two. Then I had a long break in the afternoon before having to come in for bartending. I had taken a nap during that break today, since nightmares had kept me up all night.

The TV was on. A Mutant Senator was talking about a Cure for Mutants. This had been in the process for a while. Every time he came on to speak about it, someone in the bar would stop what they were doing and boo at the screen. I would then be forced to turn it off.

This happened again today just as John Allerdyce walked in. He smirked as soon as he saw me and sat down at his usual stool. Now I knew he had a fake ID and was no way old enough to drink, but nobody here cared. Underage Mutants came in all the time. I was told to give them whatever they wanted, except the really hard and good stuff. Personally, I refused to give anything to anyone under the age of sixteen. John was a regular. He liked to come around and irritate me from time to time. Nothing I could do about it except do my best not to get riled up and wait for him to go away. Now I poured him some beer and shoved the mug toward him. He continued smiling that smug smile as he took a drink.

"So you heard the news, huh?"

"What do you want, John?" I asked, not taking the bait.

"I want to know if you're gonna take the cure," John said, watching me from over his mug's rim.

I gave him a look. "Of course not," I snapped rather quickly.

He looked amused. "That's good. Don't forget who got you away from the Academy, landed you this job, and taught you how to control your ability when you have those freak nightmares of yours. He wouldn't be too happy to find out his student ran away to the humans for a cure." He made a face when he said the word, as if it tasted bad.

"I _know_, John," I said, annoyed. "I'm not going in."

In truth I had thought about. I kept thinking about my dreams and wondering if they were from the future. I still had not seen the winged man and wondered if he was even real sometimes. But if it was a glimpse of the future, it could not come true if I did not have my ability.

But then I knew I would not be able to get away with it. Magneto's Mutants would hunt me down, possibly kill me. If not that, they could ruin my life forever. He had got me this job, after all. He could take it away, and then I would have nothing.

"By the way," John said, leaning against the counter. "A bunch of knuckle-headed Mutants are having some sort of rally at Holy Trinity Church tonight. You wanna come?"

I shook my head. "I have work to do."

"Aw, come on, Shard. It'll be fun. See who's out there. Check out the abilities. I bet Magneto will gather a few more followers from that group. But I can bet none of them will be as powerful as us. We could have a little fun with them." He chuckled malevolently and took a longer swig of beer.

"I'm not into your sick idea of humor, Pyro," I said flatly, picking up a discarded cup and moving to the sink to clean it.

"You roughed up that one guy pretty good a while back, remember?"

"He made an inappropriate comment." It was true. A drunk Mutant had been hitting on me and tried to grab my rear with his hand . . . which stretched across the entire length of the room to get to me. I had broken a glass and sent the shards hurtling toward the man. He had pulled his arm back so fast I thought I could hear an elastic snap.

"If I made an inappropriate comment, would you rough me up some?" John asked with a sly smile.

I made a face. "Shut your mouth, Allerdyce, before you find glass in it."

To my surprise he did. Closing his lips together tightly, he stared down at the almost empty mug in front of him. "You know," he said after a moment, "you weren't the reason I came to the Academy that night." He and I both knew what night he was talking about. I grabbed a clean rag and started drying the mug in my hand.

"I came for Bobby actually. I was gonna try and get him to come over to Magneto's side with me. Ran into you instead." He shrugged. "Still, I guess you're better than nothing right? At least, the boss seems to think so. He's going to turn you into a nice, little soldier for his big operation. You know that right?"

I hesitated, rubbing harder at the mug. "Yeah," I said after a moment. "I know."

"I'm pretty sure he's going to make me a general, so play nice with me. I just might end up being your superior." He grinned crookedly and winked. I slapped the towel at him, smacking him in the arm. He just laughed.

"Holy Trinity Church. Tonight. Be there or I'll have to visit you again and give you the deets."

"And we _wouldn't_ want that, I'm guessing," I said with a shake of my head.

He shrugged. "Hey, I don't care. You're the one who seems to have such a big problem with me."

"That's because you're an annoying b—"

John cut me off with a finger to my lips. His skin burned against mine, as though fire were coursing through his veins, despite the fact that he could not generate it, only control it. I wondered how he had gotten over to me so fast when I realized that I had slowly been moving over to him while I dried. This annoyed me.

"Shh," he said with another smug smile. "Don't want to dirty the kiddie's ears." The only kids in Charlie's were a couple of punks at a table near the door. Not even close enough to hear us. I glared at him silently.

"You're a lot cuter when you're not talking or throwing punches," John observed as he leaned back and drained his mug. "I'll catch you later." Digging in his pockets, he pulled out a quarter and tossed it to me. "Put it on my tab. And that's a little extra for you, cuz I'm feeling generous."

The glasses rattled behind me. He laughed again and left before I could shatter everything and hurl it towards him. Calming myself down the best I could, I turned the TV back on and switched to a sports channel. After that there were no more boos, only cheers for the winning team and shouts for more beer.

00000

I went straight back to my apartment after work. I had surprised myself by briefly looking up Holy Trinity Church to find out where it was located. Once I realized what I was doing however, I stopped myself and walked away.

I didn't want to know what Magneto was planning. He seemed nice enough when I talked to him, but I knew our training sessions were not just for my benefit, but for his as well. He was training me, honing my skills, so that I might be a part of his Brotherhood. His army. He believed I had potential. He used the anger and hurt I held inside of me to fuel my ability to higher stature. Sometimes I wanted to burst and sometimes I exploded, shouting at him and at John, who often sat in on our sessions. Partly to guard the door, partly to help anger me.

When I blew up, Magneto patiently taught me how to channel that emotion productively, using my abilities. I could do more now, and the pain in my head hurt less. Still, I had almost constant headaches, and was always downing aspirins, but I was growing stronger. And no matter what Magneto was preparing me for, the strength and power felt good. I felt in control. Lack of control was what had put me into this mess in the first place. It was what had made my foster families abandon me, what had caused my breakdown at the Academy, my mistakes, the unspeakable crime of my childhood. I had not been strong enough. Now I was. I could do anything. Almost. There was one thing I could not do.

I could not go back.

Not yet.

When I arrived at my apartment, I made myself a sandwich and went to bed, grabbing my latest library book on my way. I had gotten into the habit of reading before bed. It helped calm me. I knew Magneto did the same. I did not have enough money to buy my own books, let alone have any space to put them in my tiny apartment, so I found a new friend in my library card. Actually it was my only friend.

A knock sounded at my door a few minutes before midnight. I had changed into my tank and pajama bottoms and had brushed my teeth, washed my face, and was ready to tuck myself into bed. I frowned, wondering who it could be at this hour. Magneto came to my apartment to train, but never this late at night.

I approached the door cautiously as another knock sounded. You could never be too careful in New York. Making sure the chain lock was in place, I opened the door a crack. To my surprise, John was standing there. I frowned, but he just grinned. Typical.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"You weren't at the rally. I've come to tell you about it."

I sighed. I really wanted to tell him to shove off and leave me alone, but I _was_ curious about the rally. I shut the door and unlocked the chain. Opening the door again, I gestured him inside, locking the door behind him.

"Got any food?" he asked, heading straight for the refrigerator.

"Sure, help yourself," I muttered sarcastically.

"Thanks," he said, getting the sarcasm and choosing to ignore it. He opened the fridge and peered inside. "You don't have much."

"I only feed myself. Usually."

"Heh. Got any beer?"

"My ID says I'm eighteen, not twenty-one."

"Your loss."

I sighed and moved back to my bed, sitting on it and watching as he moved around the kitchen, opening and closing the cupboards in his search for food. Finally he settled on a bag of tortilla chips and a jar of salsa. I had been saving those for a rainy day, which was apparently today.

"So?" I said, after he wolfed down half the bag. "You going to tell me what happened or not?"

"Magneto's got a few new recruits," John said, licking salsa off his fingers. I shifted in my seat. "Got some chick who can run faster than a speeding bullet, heh, and sense where Mutants are. We got some dude who's gotta be part porcupine, what with the spikes that shoot out of his face. And a few others. Most weren't real excited to see us at first, but when Magneto talks, man, the whole room listens." He got a wistful look in his eye, and I knew he was wishing for power like that. I was just thinking that a guy with a porcupine face must have been lonely at school since I couldn't think of any girl who would want that in a boyfriend.

"What else?" I asked after there was silence.

John shrugged. "That was about it. He told them about the Brotherhood. I bet we'll have more recruits in a few weeks."

"Do you even know what he wants us all for?" I asked skeptically, since I did not think anyone but Magneto knew at this point.

He shrugged again. "No idea. But you know, it's Magneto. He's got it all planned out. He wants the super-fast chick to locate a certain Mutant for him. Whatever it is, it's coming soon."

"And you're going to be in the front lines."

"You bet I am."

I shook my head. "You can blindly follow this man if you want, but I'm not sure I want to."

John stared at me. "You're joking right?" He asked and frowned. "Shard, you have no idea what Magneto can do to you if you back out. I mean, seriously. You're either with us, or against us. And if you're against us, it's not going to be pretty for you."

"I _know_ that," I snapped, and then ran a hand over my face tiredly. "I just—I don't know. I don't like this feeling of foreboding I get whenever we talk about Magneto and his plans. Or even when Magneto is here and teaching me."

"You should be grateful he's taking time out of his busy life to train you," John said in a low dangerous voice, very different than the annoying one he usually used with me."

I looked over at him and frowned. "I am grateful," I said after a moment. "I just don't want to get in over my head."

John smirked faintly. "Just wait. It'll be worth it. Once Magneto gets what he wants, we'll be unstoppable. All humans will tremble before us, like it should be. We'll be the most powerful beings on earth."

"That's just it," I interrupted. "I don't _want_ to be the most powerful being on earth. Not if it will cost anyone their lives."

John shook his head. "You're just not ready," he said. Getting up, he crossed the room and sat next to me. I turned to face him, watching him warily. He had yet to hit on me, and that was slightly freaking me out.

"Listen Madi," he said, using my nickname. The word shocked me into stillness. Silence. He reached up and touched my bare shoulder lightly with his fingertips. I inhaled sharply at the heat, wondering why it was sending shivers down my spine. This was _not_ good. If I was experiencing these feelings with John, I was in major trouble.

"I was thinking," he went on, softly, gently. Very unlike the John I knew and despised. "When this is over, Magneto is probably going to set himself up as the highest ruler type guy. He'll want people to serve under him. I'm probably going to get a pretty high place considering my charm, my good-looks, and my awesome power." He flicked the device on palm and held the flame in front of me. I rolled my eyes.

"Someone's got a high opinion of himself," I muttered, glad he was acting like his old self so I could hate him again. I stood to put away the chips and salsa.

"_Anyway_," John went on, slightly annoyed that I had interrupted. "I'm gonna need a right-hand man of my own. And I was thinking, that is, I want it to be you."

I froze, my hand on the cabinet knob. I shut it slowly, and turned. John was standing now, staring across the room at me. I frowned suddenly.

"Is this some kind of joke?" I asked, looking around as if I expected to see a camera or something.

Now it was John's turn to roll his eyes. "No, Shard, I'm not joking. Think about it. It makes sense right? I'm the only one who knows who you really are, Madison Clark." I shivered at the sound of my real name. "I know your secrets." He took a few steps closer. I could not move, my back was pressed against the counter. "I know what you scream in your nightmares. Heck, I've been on the receiving end of your ability. It's incredible."

He stopped right in front of me. He leaned forward and placed his lips next to my ear. "I know who killed your parents," he whispered, and this time I trembled from head to foot. He was scaring me. He was scaring me because I knew he was right.

There was a time when a different boy knew everything about me. I had dumped all my baggage on him, and he had taken it with a smile and encouragement. But I had not told that boy about my parents' death. I thought he would not be able to handle the truth. And now he had probably moved on, never to know that much about me. Never to see into the core of me.

It scared me like crazy, but John was right. He knew me. He knew every inch of my innermost being because of those stupid training lessons he had sat in on. Unwillingly I had opened myself up to not only Magneto, but to John as well.

I brought my hand up to slap John. He was striking a low blow by bringing up my parents. He caught my hand however, grinning slightly at getting me riled up. I brought up my other hand, he caught that one. I shoved hard against him, pushing him away from me. He stumbled against the table, momentarily losing his grip. I yanked myself away and flung open the cabinet which held three glasses. My arsenal.

Veins cracked along the sides and then they broke into six deadly pieces. John's eyes widened, and he turned swiftly as they buried themselves in the table.

"Don't you _ever_ mention my parents!" I shouted at him, yanking a shard out of the table and making it sail through the air at his head. His hand came up and fire incinerated the glass, melting it into a lump that fell to the floor. As he did however, another shard slashed his cheek, blood beginning to run from the small cut. He touched it gingerly and inspected the liquid on his fingers.

He grinned again. "Now that's what I'm talking about," he said. He advanced, melting my shards as they hurtled toward him. I scrambled to get away, crawling under the table and around toward my bed, ready to use the window as back up.

Before I could however, he tackled me, pinning me down on the bed. I struck out at him, punching him in the jaw. He grabbed my wrist and squeezed, a flicker of heat singed my skin and I cried out in surprise and slight pain. He chose that moment to strike, but not in the way I expected.

Instead of his hand slapping my mouth, his lips collided with mine in a harsh kiss. As much as I wanted to shove him to the floor, something within me, a baser instinct, took control. Before I knew what I was doing, I was kissing him back hungrily, digging my fingers into his hair.

There was a frenzy of movement that knocked the book off the bed and rumpled the covers to a state of complete disarray. I could not even recall afterward what I was thinking while we became instruments of our passions. I was so hot with anger, I felt like I had no control over my body. And John's heat did not help either.

I remember being angry the entire time, and that I wanted to take control again. I would not be helpless beneath this boy I disliked so much. I gripped and tugged and pulled and growled. It was almost animalistic. He responded in kind, rough and heated. It hurt and yet felt better than anything ever did.

When it was over, we were both breathless and sweaty. The red haze before my eyes began to dim and slowly I began to see clearly again. John rolled over to lie beside me. I felt exhausted and every muscle in me ached.

"Bet old stuffy Peter never gave you that," John said, smirking.

I suddenly felt a rush of guilt and closed me eyes, breathing slowly through my nose. Hearing the name brought back memories. I felt an ache in my chest as I thought of the sweet kiss in my bedroom after I had spoken to him. So gentle and soft and unlike what had just happened. Jones's words rang in my ears.

_Told you he cared. Cared. Cared. Cared._

A hot tear slipped out from under my eyelid and I began to feel sick. I turned my back on John.

"Get out," I muttered.

"What?" John asked, surprised.

"I said, get out," I repeated, louder this time.

I heard him growl under his breath about 'stupid, temperamental women' before I felt the bed sink and bounce as he got up. I listened as he dressed and then moved toward the door.

"Still think you should consider my offer," he said from the doorway.

"Get out!"

He left. I reached up and clutched the necklace that lay on the sheet next to me, my fingers closing around the silver-gold rose. I thought of what Peter would think of me now and I wept.

I knew now that I could never go back.

Not ever.

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**Yeah, Madi is pretty much still a mess. We're in the darkness before the dawn and everything seems to be hopeless. But this is just a set-up for what happens later. On a happier note, this is the longest chapter I've written for this story! =D Review and tell me what you think!**


	12. Chapter XI

**A/N: Wow, this chapter showed up fast. I honestly did not mean to write this until later, but well the idea popped up and before I knew it, I had written over 2,000 words. So you guys get an update much, much faster than I intended. Enjoy. ;P**

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****Chapter XI**

I didn't go into work the next day. Instead I called in sick and took a trip to my old neighborhood. It looked familiar, and yet somehow different. I stood in the driveway of Carol and Steve's house and stared at the place, remembering my old life there. Things had been so simple then, strange and tense, but simple. There were no confusing emotions, only silence. Now there was too much talk, too many conflicting feelings, too much pain.

Turning away from my former foster home, I looked at Frankie Bodkin's house. I remembered babysitting him. However thinking of that made me think of Artie. A weight settled on my chest and I had to take a deep, shuddering breath in order to alleviate it. There were balloons tied to the mailbox and the sound of splashes and children's screams of laughter sounded from the backyard. It must have been Frankie's sixth birthday party.

Drawn by the innocent sounds of fun, I made my way around the house. A group of about eight or nine little kids was playing around and in the pool, their moms seated at a table not far away, the table heaped with presents and snacks, the cake shaped like a soccer ball set in the middle. So Frankie was into soccer? I could see that.

A little girl with bright orange floaties saw me and started staring. I smiled at her and waved slightly. She continued to stare, but wiggled her fingers in a small wave before turning and kicking off toward the other children, her legs pumping ecstatically. At the frantic splashing, Mrs. Bodkin looked up and spotted me. I smiled slightly and touched my hair self-consciously, not sure she would recognize me after two years, especially since I had cut my and dyed my hair and grown bigger.

She excused herself from her friends and came over, looking at me curiously. "Madison Clark, is that you?" she asked, and somehow the name did not sound wrong coming from her mouth. I smiled again, and nodding. I surprised myself by being pleased that she remembered. And in a way I was happy she had. It almost felt like coming home.

She wrapped me in a big hug and then ushered me over to the table where she introduced me to some of the other moms, calling me Frankie's babysitter, as if I still was. They all greeted me warmly enough. Mrs. Bodkin offered me a piece of cake and got me a chair before sitting down and going back to her conversation.

I observed the kids as I ate. I picked out little Frankie immediately. He looked the same as he had when I left, only taller and more talkative. He and a couple of his little buddies were spraying the girls with water from plastic guns. The girls shrieked and swam away accordingly, the boys laughing and high-fiving each other. The oldest there had to be around eight years old.

The women were talking about gardening and home décor. I realized how much I missed being around normal humans. The talk in Charlie's nowadays consisted mostly of complaining about the cure or the President or Mr. Worthington, the owner of the Lab which was making the cure. I had not heard an "ordinary" conversation in a long time. Finishing the cake, I stood and threw the trash away before coming back to sit again.

Frankie got out of the pool and came over to his mom to complain about a defective gun. As Mrs. Bodkin looked over at it, he glanced over at me. I grinned faintly, wondering if he would remember me. It had been so long, and he had been so young when I left. But his face suddenly lit up, and he ran over to me, tackling me in a wet hug.

"Madi!" he cried, grinning widely. "You came back!"

I laughed and ruffled his wet hair, suddenly happier than I had been in two years.

"Hey," I said, grinning back. The expression felt strange on my face. When was the last time I had grinned like this? Or laughed for that matter? I couldn't remember.

"You came for my party?" Frankie asked hopefully after he pulled away and left large wet spots on my shirt and jeans.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," I told him.

He grinned and ran back to his mom, snatching the fixed gun from her. He squirted some water at me and then dived back into the pool. I looked down at my wet state and then up at Mrs. Bodkin. She smiled.

"I have some dry clothes you can borrow," she said. "If you'd like to change."

I nodded gratefully and followed her into the house via the kitchen. They had rearranged some furniture, but it was still familiar. I could not help but run my hand along the counter where I had made many a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Mrs. Bodkin led me upstairs to the master bedroom, where I had slept one night when the Bodkins were gone overnight. Frankie and climbed into the bed with me, and I had told him stories until his little eyelids closed and he slept. Mrs. Bodkin went straight to the closet and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a white shirt. She was slightly rounder than I was, so they both fit loosely. Still, it was comfortable and not wet. She hung my soaking clothes in the bathroom.

"I must admit, I'm surprised you're here," she said, turning and looking at me. She did not look like she expected an answer, and I realized I had yet to talk to her. In fact, I had never spoken to her in my life. I had been giving all adults that silent treatment before, and I supposed I had just fallen into the habit again, being on familiar territory.

"I was in the neighborhood and decided to drop by and see how Frankie was doing," I said truthfully.

She started in surprise at hearing my voice. Then she smiled. "It was nice of you to think of him," she said, but then her smile faltered. "You're not still . . ."

"A Mutant?" I asked, raising my eyebrows and wondering when that had ever bothered her before. She nodded and I nodded back. She looked nervously at the door.

"Madison, you know I have no problem with Mutants. I have a few friends who are Mutants. But a couple ladies downstairs have a prejudice against them and would not like it if they knew one was here. So . . . please don't use any of your . . . abilities while you're here, okay?"

A flash of anger rushed through me. Who was she to tell me not to use my abilities? And how could her friends be so narrow-minded? How would they feel if I marched down there and told them I disliked white American females? Of course, that would make no sense considering I was one, but it was the principle of the thing. They could not hold me back like this. It was not like I could help being what—who I was! I should go down there and show them what I could do if they dared try to stop me. I should—

I cut myself off, surprised by my mental spiel. Mrs. Bodkin was still looking at me expectantly. I swallowed hard and gave her a weak smile.

"Of course," I answered, and she sighed with relief.

"Thank you," she said. "I should get back to the party."

I followed her out of the bedroom, but not back out to the party. Instead I went to the living room, trying to gather my thoughts. The anger I had felt in the bedroom was now gone, but I could feel it lurking within me, ready to strike again if I let my guard down.

I knew why it was there. It was part of Magneto's training. He wanted to get me angry at humans, to feel superior because, after all, we were better than they were. More advanced. But at the same time, Professor Xavier's teachings came to me, about how to use your abilities for good and for the help of humans. Like we were some kind of superheroes. Magneto just believed we were superhuman. On a different plane of existence than the regular humans. Better than them. Stronger than them. We deserved to be respected and worshiped even.

At least, that's what Magneto said.

I rubbed my temples, fighting another headache. I started to reach for my pocket to get out the small mint container I kept my aspirin in, but it was in my jeans. Instead I flopped down on the couch and stared at the phone that sat on the side table.

My fingers itched to pick it up and call someone. My cell phone was back at my apartment. I hadn't wanted anyone bothering me today with phone calls. Especially John, since I knew he would probably try to call. I tried not to think of last night.

I reached forward and picked up the cordless phone, staring down at the glowing numbers. Swallowing hard, I forced my fingers to dial a number. Hesitating, I almost forgot to hold it to my ear until I heard someone answer.

"Hello?" I said, having missed the person's first hello. I had no idea who it was either. I hoped it was some obscure Mutant I had never met.

"Hello?" The voice was familiar. "This is Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Kitty Pryde speaking. How may I help you?"

I hung up quickly, losing my nerve. What was Kitty doing answering the phone? Were Professor Monroe, Professor Summers, and Logan out? I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm my racing heart. Hearing Kitty's voice, after being gone from the School for as long as I had, had been more difficult than I had first thought. I hesitated, then put the phone back on its stand.

I heard the glass doors in the kitchen slide open and then shut, and then the sound of small, wet footsteps coming toward me. Frankie, wrapped tightly in a large fluffy towel came and stood in front of me.

"Are you going to babysit me?" he asked expectantly.

I smiled ruefully. "Sorry, buddy, but no. Not this time."

"I want you to babysit me," he pouted, sitting down on my lap.

I hugged him close, unable to resist snuggling him with that warm, extremely soft towel around him. He giggled as I nuzzled his neck, shying away.

"I know, I miss you too," I said with a smile.

He leaned back against me, resting his head under my chin. Before we could get comfortable however, he sat up straight. "I got a trophy at soccer. Wanna see?"

"Of course I do," I said.

He stood and wormed a hand out from under the towel in order to take mine. He then led me up the stairs to his room where we spent a good fifteen minutes looking at his trophy, his play station, his soccer ball, his soccer uniform, and the large, blue bunny he still insisted on sleeping with, despite the fact that it was all torn and dirty from being played with too much.

Mrs. Bodkin came and found us when it was time to open presents, scolding Frankie for abandoning his guests. I followed them down and stood to the side as Frankie tore into his gifts. I realized though that I had to leave soon. A couple of the moms were glancing over at me surreptitiously, whispering behind their hands. They must have realized I was a Mutant, although _how_ they did, I had no idea. Perhaps one of them was friends with someone who had a cousin who had a friend who was a Mutant and went to Charlie's Restaurant and Bar.

In any case, red flags were going up. As much as I didn't want to, I had to get out of there. I skirted past the moms and went back upstairs to get my clothes. They were still damp but wearable. I got changed quickly and then went back downstairs. Frankie was looking for me. He wanted to show me all his new toys. With a heavy heart I had to peel my hand out from his and pat him on the head.

"Sorry Frankie, but I've got to go now."

Out of the corner of my eye I could see the whispering moms looking relieved. Frankie however, looked disappointed.

"Will you come back?" he asked, and with his dark hair and eyes, he reminded me so much of little Artie on the night that I left that I almost started crying.

I smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll come back to visit sometime soon," I lied. I felt bad for doing so, but I could not leave with his face so downcast. He smiled and gave me a big hug before turning back to his friends and new toys.

Mrs. Bodkin showed me out. I thanked her for use of her clothes and she apologized for the prejudiced women in the house.

"If it were another time . . ." her eyes strayed to the children playing on the floor.

"I understand," I said, swallowing the lump stuck in my throat. She gave me another apologetic smile and shut the door behind me as I left.

Sticking my hands into my pockets, I slumped forward slightly and made my way back to the bus stop. Having not enough money for a car, I either walked or took a bus when I had to go somewhere. It was not pleasant being around so many people when crowded into a bus, but I learned to suck it up.

Thankfully this time the ride was mostly empty with only a few stops. I appreciated the silence, after all the shouting and loudness of Frankie's party. However I started feeling homesick. Only it wasn't for my apartment, Steve and Carol's place, or even Frankie Bodkin's house. I was feeling homesick for Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. And that scared me.

It meant that perhaps I was not as confident as I needed to be. As Magneto wanted me to be. I knew there was no way he could ever learn about my little side trip today. It would constitute as weakness. As fraternizing with the enemy. Little Frankie was human, and although he could not help it, he was the enemy. It made me slightly sick to think that way, but it was the way Magneto taught me.

I had indeed lied to Frankie. I would never see him, or that neighborhood, ever again.

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**I had realized that Madi had told Frankie she would come and visit when she first left and then she never did, so I decided to wrap up that little side story. Also, it set a good stage for Madi to feel homesickness toward the School. Review and tell me what you think!**


	13. Chapter XII

**A/N: Since I'm doing NaNoWriMo this year, updates will be slow, just to let ya'll know. =) I was able to whip up this chapter in between my frantic scrambling for words for my NaNo. ;P Enjoy!  
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****Chapter XII**

"Clairvoyance."

"Excuse me?" I looked up from the glass I was wiping down to look blankly at John. He had come into Charlie's soon after I had arrived that morning and instantly began chatting as if nothing were wrong. As if what had happened in my apartment was all just a bad dream and he had waken from it a long time ago. It grated on my nerves to see him so nonchalant, especially since my cheeks started burning as soon as he had walked into the door. I was sure he noticed the way I carefully ignored him, for he was obnoxiously loud.

I tuned out his words and went about my business as usual until he suddenly stopped talking and looked at me expectantly. My blank look shifted into a frown of confusion.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"There's this woman who's a part of the Brotherhood. She can show you anything you want to see that's going on in another part of the world, if she has the right materials. A memento or something. Anything the person has touched. So here." He dug into his pocket and drew out a shining gold dollar. He held it out to me. "Take it. Oh and this," he drew out a piece of paper with an address on it. "Here."

I looked at the things with disdain. "And _why_ would I take these things?"

It might have been my imagination, but it seemed like a flicker of hurt crossed over his face. I decided it had to have been my imagination, because when I looked closer, he was wearing just his signature smirk. (Although _why_ my imagination would make it seem like he was hurt by my words I had no idea).

"So you can watch as me and Magneto go kick some government agents' butts," he said with a smirk. "That girl I told you about? Who can locate other mutants? She found Mystique. So we're going after her later today."

"Magneto and I," I corrected automatically, taking the items offered to me slowly. "Why do you want me to watch?" I asked, regretting it instantly. Thankfully he did not mention that night. Instead he shrugged slightly.

"Just thought you might be interested in seeing our great leader in action," he said. "I can guarantee you it'll be interesting, so don't just go home and sleep all afternoon. Go see her."

I pocketed the items. "I'll think about it," I said, pouring him some more coffee.

Thankfully he did not stay long after that. Nodding significantly to the pocket that held the items, he grinned faintly and left. Inwardly I cursed at him. Now that my curiosity was piqued, I _had_ to go see what he and Magneto would be doing. As soon as my shift ended, I headed off to the address listed on the paper John had given me.

The woman, Madame LaDonna the card said her name was, had her office in a small house that stood on the corner of a neighborhood street. The sign on her door said "Psychic Readings for Mutants Only. Humans Not Admitted." While the "Psychic Readings" part looked old and the pain was wearing off, the rest of the sign looked brand new. Sighing slightly, I opened the door and stepped inside.

Instantly I was hit with the smell of burning incense so strong my head started throbbing. Coughing lightly, I dug in my pocket for my aspirin. As I swallowed down a couple, I peered into the dimly lit room, trying to locate Madame LaDonna as my eyes adjusted to the dark.

"Um, hello?" I called, stepping forward hesitantly. "Madame LaDonna?"

"Ah, come in child, come in!" A friendly Jamaican woman's voice called from behind a purple curtain. I tried not to snicker as I pulled it back and saw a large black woman sitting on a pillow behind a small table that held a crystal ball in the center. She wore a long, colorful tunic, a lot of jewelry and a large, red and purple turban. It was all so cliché and like in the movies I half-expected Patrick Swayze to walk out of the walls.

"Hi, I'm—"

"Madison Clark, yes I know," Madame LaDonna said with a kind smile. "Please, sit." She gestured to the cushions across from her.

I sat down gingerly, feeling foolish and silly. I nervously fiddled with my necklace as I looked around the small spot she had sectioned off with the purple curtain.

"What are you looking for, child?" Madame LaDonna asked, watching me closely. I shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny.

"My . . . uh, an acquaintance of mine is, um, well, you see a fellow student of mine is going on a . . . trip with our teacher, and he wanted me to watch . . . whatever it is they're going to be doing," I explained as best I could. I dug into my pocket and held out the gold coin.

"He touched this," I said, placing it into Madame LaDonna's outstretched hand.

She inspected it closely, nodding her head up and down slightly as if the coin had spoken to her, and she was indicating that she understood. Then she placed her hands on the crystal ball and closed her eyes.

"Look into the ball child," she said to me. "And you will see."

I leaned forward, feeling more and more ridiculous by the minute. But then something flashed in the ball, a car. No, no, a van. Yes, a black van was going past on a road. It was proceeded by a black car with red and blue lights flashing from inside, and was followed by a few of the same cars. I knew Mystique had to be in the van.

I could not help but watch with sudden interest as the cars suddenly flipped over and off the road and Magneto and John strode up to the van, opening the doors and going inside. They took out the guards and released two more prisoners. I could see their lips moving, but no words came out. I realized I could only watch what was going on, not listen. This was frustrating, especially since I knew nothing about reading lips. But I could tell that one of the prisoners could multiply himself by a lot. The other guy was huge and looked like he was made out of rock. He wore a helmet on his head, and I was suddenly glad I was on his side . . . more or less.

They appeared to be ready to go, when one of the security guards shot at Magneto. My breath hitched as I watched Mystique push him out of the way, taking the bullet herself. Only . . . it was not a bullet. It was a syringe. Slowly her body began to lose its blue shade, the scales falling away and her hair morphing into black. I gaped in shock as she curled on the floor of the van, completely human.

My mouth dropped open even further when Magneto, John, and the two new guys turned and left her there. I leaned back, frowning. I knew why Magneto would leave behind his most faithful and trusted sidekick. His sick prejudice against humans crossed over even into the Brotherhood. If any of us took the cure, willingly or unwillingly, we would be abandoned like Mystique. There was no doubt in my mind about that fact.

"Thanks," I muttered to Madame LaDonna. "How much do I owe you?" I rummaged in my pockets for money.

"You sure that is all you wish to see?" she asked, looking at my necklace pointedly.

I reached up and touched it lightly. I knew what she was asking. She was asking if I wanted to see Peter. I had to admit that I did. Slowly, hesitantly, I undid the clasp of the necklace and placed it on Madame LaDonna's palm. She closed her dark fingers around it and closed her eyes, this time humming slightly with a small smile. She then placed her hands on the ball and I leaned forward, not feeling foolish now that I knew that it worked.

My heart flutter into my throat when I saw Peter come into view. He was sitting on the couch in the rec room with Jones and Artie. I gasped audibly when I saw how big the two younger boys had gotten. I tried to work out their ages in my mind. Jones would be . . . fourteen now. And Artie would be ten. So much change in two years, and yet not that much change at all.

Jones sat staring at the TV, blinking with all his might, the channels flying past at lightning speed. I knew he must be angry about something. It was obvious in his tight facial features. Artie's face was red, and he was yelling at Peter. His forked tongue slithered slightly in and out of his mouth on words that I realized must have started with an "S." Peter was taking the verbal abuse silently, muscular arms folded across his broad chest. Artie suddenly stood and grabbed the coffee table that stood in front of the couch. With surprising strength that left me stunned, he lifted it off the ground just enough to send it hurtling through the TV, which exploded in a shower of sparks.

Jones froze, his eyes stuck wide open. Slowly he turned his head to look at Artie, whose small chest was heaving, the red slowly fading from his cheeks as his bottom lip trembled. Jones stood carefully and crossed over to the boy, laying his hand on Artie's shoulder and saying something to him. Artie jerked his away from his friend and turned to glare at Peter, saying something to him angrily.

Peter blinked and his face softened slightly from the stoic expression it had been stuck in. He let his hands fall to his knees and leaned forward, speaking to Artie in a tender way. The boy dropped his gaze to the ground and his mouth moved in a way that I was sure meant he was muttering. Then his shoulders started shaking and my heart felt heavy in my chest as I realized he was crying. Jones put his hand back on Artie's shoulder and this time the smaller boy turned so his face was buried in Jones's shirt.

Jones wrapped his arms around the little boy and exchanged a glance with Peter. He said something to him, and Peter shook his head. Jones's expression fell, and he looked as though he was going to cry himself. But then he straightened his back and said something to Peter. Peter sighed, his big shoulders moving up and down with the action. Then he stood and laid a hand briefly on Jones's head before walking over to the TV and picking it up. With one more comment to Jones, he left the room.

The crystal ball swirled with fog and the picture was gone. I leaned back, feeling numb. Madame LaDonna watched me shrewdly.

"You have many good friends at the Academy," she said flatly. "Now I don't agree with Professor Xavier's methods, nor do I agree with most of the things he is teaching those children. But I can see plainly that you ache for them in your very soul. You are not complete without them, child. You should go back to your home."

"I have a home," I said shortly, not liking where this conversation was going. I stood abruptly. "The Brotherhood is my home now," I said, almost choking on the words. "I hurt the people I love. So I left. And now I can live my life without worrying if that's going to happen again."

Madame LaDonna looked up at me sympathetically. "Child, your absence is hurting them. And it is hurting you as well. A body cannot function properly if any of its parts are missing. By severing them from your life, you are hurting yourself just as strongly as you are hurting them."

I clenched my teeth. "Thanks," I said tightly. I dug into my pockets and brought out the money I had, dropping it onto the table. "Keep the change." With that I turned and strode out of the building.

The tears did not start to fall until I reached the bus stop. Thankfully the bus had a light load and no one paid attention to the young woman sitting in the far back of the bus, shoulders shaking as she wept into her hands.

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**It might seem like more of a filler, but a lot of stuff happened in this chapter. They may seem little now, but they will be important later. Kudos and Kookies to whoever remembers/catches them when they show up in later chapters. ;) But for now, review and tell me what you think of this one! XD**


	14. Chapter XIII

**A/N: Sorry it took so long for this chapter. On the plus side, I finished my NaNoWriMo novel in the month and I'm working on self-publishing it. XD I was so happy. Then followed two incredibly busy weeks in which I practically got no writing done. This chapter isn't nearly as long as I would have liked it to be, but it's crazy late here and I'm freakin' exhausted and couldn't think of anything else to write. Still, I think it turned out well enough despite those facts. Enjoy!**

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****Chapter XIII**

It was four days before I saw John again. When he came into Charlie's he was different. His face was serious, solemn. Almost scarily so. I watched him warily as he approached the counter. I was surprised by his directness. I was also surprised at how pale he looked. I almost thought about asking what had happened after the raid on the armored trucks that had been carrying Mystique and those two other Mutants, but decided not to.

"We're setting up camp in the forest," he said to me flatly. "All of the Brotherhood. Magneto expects you to come as well."

"Why?" I demanded, frowning slightly.

"He's planning something," John said and his fingers fingered the device on his hand that gave him his fire. "Big. He needs to get us all in one place."

"I can't just up and leave," I protested. "I have bills to pay, you know."

"Magneto didn't get you this job because he wanted you to be selling drinks the rest of your life," John sneered. "You needed a stable living environment if you were ever to get out of that self-loathing bubble of yours. He thinks you're ready now. You have to come. He's already squared everything with Charlie. You're free to go."

"How am I going to live if I just up and leave?" I asked through gritted teeth, not liking the way John and Magneto were running my life as though I had no say in it at all.

"Once Magneto gets what he wants, you won't need a crap job like this. The Brotherhood is your family, Shard. We take care of our own."

"Unless they happen to accidentally be hit by a cure dart while saving another Mutant from the same fate," I said flatly. I was pleased to see his face flinch slightly as my words smacked him harshly.

"We can't afford to have anyone defect to the other side," he said finally. "Her loyalties would have been in question if she had been allowed to stay. Besides, it would look bad if we had humans in our midst."

"I guess I just don't understand," I said with a shrug. "I mean, we have rights now, we have freedom. Heck, we even have a mutant as Secretary of Mutant Affairs. Why are we still fighting?"

"Because we're better than them, Shard," John said earnestly. "And we don't deserve to be rubbing elbows with their kind. We deserve to be superior."

"Right," I said with a slight sigh. I tried to forget that part of my training. It gave me dangerous thoughts. Standing there, looking over the counter at John, his signature smirk on his face, I realized that if I did not go with him to the forest where Magneto had set up camp, I would regret it for the rest of my life. Not because it was the right thing to do, but because Magneto would make sure my life was absolutely miserable. He had gotten me the job; he had made sure I had a roof over my head and food to eat. All that would be taken away from me as soon as I refused an order, I was sure.

"When does he want me there," I asked finally, giving in to my fate.

"Now," John said with satisfaction.

"_Now_ now?" I asked, dumbfounded.

John rolled his eyes. "You won't know where it is so I've got to take you there. And I've got about ten other Mutants to recruit today so if you're coming we've got to go _now_."

I grumbled but untied my apron and checked to make sure my wallet and my cell phone were in my pockets.

"You won't need those," John said. "But if you want to keep them for sentimental value, I won't stop you." He shrugged.

I clenched my teeth but said nothing as I slipped my wallet and phone back into my pocket. I was keeping them. It was a small thing, but they helped remind me that, no matter what Magneto said, I was still human. I thought about saying goodbye to Charlie, and thanking him for the job, before I remembered he had never really had a choice in hiring me.

I followed John out the door and secretly hoped I would never see the place again.

We boarded a bus that took us out into the forest preserve of New York. The ride was silent. It was childish, but I made sure my elbow did not touch his the entire time. If he was annoyed by my ignoring him, he did not show it. He was uncharacteristically quiet. He did not even taunt me about my necklace, which I was wearing outside of my shirt for once.

When we got to the camp, Magneto greeted me warmly, like a father would greet a long-lost daughter. He wrapped his arms around me in an embrace and kissed my forehead lightly.

"My dear, it is so good to see you again," he said with a gentle smile. "It has been some time since your last training lesson."

I pulled away as soon as I could and stepped back behind John. "Yeah well, I've been busy." I glanced around at the camp and observed with some disappointment that there were a lot of mutants there. And when I say a lot I mean a _lot_. The X-Men didn't stand much of a chance against these. They were what? Five maybe? While the numbers here . . .

"I see you've been busy too," I said.

"Yes, our numbers have grown substantially," he said, pride evident in his voice. "Soon we will be ready for the war to commence."

"The war . . . against the humans," I said slowly for clarification.

Magneto nodded as John walked up to stand beside him. "Of course, my dear. The humans and their pesky cure. Once we have destroyed it, our advancement in creating a world free of persecution will continue without delay."

"And the cure is . . . ?"

"On Alcatraz Island," John spoke up, eager to be included in laying out the mission statement. "We're going to make sure it's destroyed for good. They won't be able to use any other method. They'll be helpless against us." He grinned suddenly, a sinister sort of grin that made the hair rise on the back of my neck and on my arms. I rubbed at my goosebumps.

"But Alcatraz is in the Pacific," I protested. "How are we supposed to get there?"

"I shall explain the details at a later date," Magneto said, waving his hand in dismissal. "In the meantime, practice what I have taught you. We shall be met with resistance, I am sure."

"The X-Men are going to try and stop you," I informed Magneto, trying not to sound as though I were rooting for them. As it was, John's eyes narrowed and Magneto did not say anything for a moment.

"Yes, unfortunately they will try," he said finally, and his expression seemed slightly sad. "We must not let them stop us from reaching our goals. You must put aside your feelings toward them and pledge yourself to our cause fully and completely." He stared down at me intently.

"Right, of course," I said with a slight, and completely fake, smile. I was glad his power was not the ability to read minds. John stared at me skeptically, but Magneto turned away, satisfied by my response.

"Over the next few days you must train hard," Magneto said before moving on. "I shall call a meeting when I feel the time is right. Then we shall make our move." He glanced sidelong at me. "I hope you will not let me down."

"I'll do my best not to," I said, eager for him to move on. Finally, after one last long look at me, he did. I breathed easier when I could no longer see him, and my neck felt oddly stiff as though I had been tense the entire time.

I rubbed it in an attempt to loosen the muscles. "So . . . I just grab a tent and settled down for the . . . week?" I asked John bitterly. Suddenly I missed my tiny apartment. At least there I had had a bed and food to eat.

John shrugged. "Do what you like. There's bound to be someone here who you won't hate. Get them to help you. I've got more Mutants to recruit." With a dismissive wave that looked remarkably like Magneto's, John scampered off somewhere, leaving me frustrated and annoyed behind him.

I trudged my way through the camp, looking for any kind of familiar face. A few Mutants looked as though they had been at Charlie's before, because I vaguely recognized them, but not enough to recall their names. That is, if they had given me any.

Suddenly I stopped short, my gaze fixed on a single figure that stood near the edge of the campsite, her back to me. She looked so familiar and yet . . . it couldn't be who I thought it was . . . could it?

My heart started racing even before I broke into a run. I stumbled over a couple blankets and even a plate full of soup as I hurried toward the woman, the goosebumps on my arms rising once more.

"Dr. Grey?" I called hesitantly. "Dr. Grey, is that you?"

I touched the woman's shoulder, careful not to pull on her long, red hair. The woman turned around so quickly she caught me by surprise and I stumbled back. Her eyes glistened black for a moment before the regular brown of her irises returned and she regarded me with slight disbelief.

"Madison?" she said in a small voice. "You're here?" Her face flooded with disappointment. Reaching up, she touched my cheek lightly with her cold fingers, before moving back to finger my short, black hair. "I had hoped for so much better from you."

I swallowed hard, unable to believe my eyes. How could she possibly be alive? I had heard the story of what had happened at the dam, and nobody could have survived that. Nobody . . .

"It's Madelyn now," I said through a dry mouth. "Madelyn Shard with short black hair and a new allegiance." I smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, I really am. But I couldn't stay with the School. I hurt too many people there and Peter . . ." I swallowed hard. "It was just better for everyone that I left." I frowned.

"But how can you still be alive? I had heard you were dead. I mean, Professor Xavier said—"

A sharp, harsh laugh cut me off and I stared in shock as Dr. Grey's eyes darkened and she shook her head in derision. "He thought he knew everything, didn't he?"

I blinked blankly. "Wh-what do you mean?" I stammered.

Jean Grey shook her head slightly and the soft brown returned to her eyes. She rubbed her head wearily. "I'm so . . . tired," she muttered. "I'm sorry you have to be a part of this." She looked up at me with a sad smile. "You were so full of potential for good." She ran her hand over my hair. "But people use you, try to control your powers, and they turn you into a killer. A monster."

"I'm not a killer," I protested, but I suddenly got a feeling that she was no longer talking about me. "Dr. Grey?"

But her eyes and grown distant and she turned away. Moving slowly as if through molasses or honey, she made her way up a small slope where she stood facing the east, her expression a mixture of pain, rage, and grief. It was an odd combination. I had to turn away after a moment, not understanding a single thing that had just happened.

I found a tent to share with a girl who called herself Arclight. She did not say much, but simply grunted whenever I asked a question of her. Her clothes resembled those of a punk rocker or something of that sort, and I realized she probably was not very sociable.

It ended up being a very lonely night.

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**Yay it's Jean! Or is it Phoenix? And yes Arclight is the silent Hispanic girl who can generate shockwaves by clapping her hands together. And ugh, writing Magneto was hard. The story is pretty much following the third movie now, and then will keep going a little while after the movie. Review and tell me what you think of this chapter! XD**


	15. Chapter XIV

**A/N: Sorry for the wait! It's not nearly as long as I would like, but I figured ya'll had been waiting long enough.  
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****Chapter XIV**

The week I spent with the Brotherhood was the worst yet dream-wise. Every night there was another nightmare and every morning were more questions. Halfway through the week Arclight kicked me out of the tent, complaining that my constant groanings and moanings were keeping her from sleep.

I did not understand them really. They were all jumbled up in my head. Some of it was memories from the past; some of it was variations of that scene in the School with that winged man. But some of it took place in what seemed like a video game of some kind. And when I was there, gunfire popped all around me and automated cars rushed past. I only survived that place because there was a boy who led me out of it. But I could only see the back of his head, he had brown hair, and whenever he turned to look at me the dream cut off or switched to another place.

I began to think it was Jones, but when he spoke to me it did not sound like Jones's voice. This bothered me, but the dreams with the winged man grew so violent that the brief respite where the boy led me confidently to safety out of the danger in the video game world was a welcome relief.

Unfortunately the dreams with the winged man came more often. I began to really fear them. They seemed to be warning me against something, but I could not figure out what. After one particularly nasty dream near the end of the week, I awoke to see John staring down at me grimly. I sat up and frowned up at him.

"Can I help you with something?" I tried to sound annoyed and harsh, but in my half-asleep state I sounded more like a drunk.

"You have a lot of nightmares," he observed.

"Yeah. So?"

"Magneto wants to see you."

That was all he said before turning away, expecting me to follow him I guess. That set my teeth on edge, but I got up and trotted after him sleepily. He led me through the camp to Magneto's tent. Gesturing for me to wait outside, he ducked inside. I crossed my arms and frowned slightly. This new serious John scared me. It was as if someone had flipped a switch. Whenever he was outside of Magneto's company he was annoying flirtatious but as soon as he came anywhere near the boss he turned solemn and sometimes even brooding. It was so unlike what I was used to that I did not know how to respond sometimes.

Magneto stepped outside of the tent and regarded me thoughtfully. "Pyro tells me you've been having nightmares," he said finally.

"_Pyro_ needs to learn to mind his own business," I grumbled, scowling at John.

"Normally I would agree," Magneto went on, ignoring my tone. "However he and I know something that I have neglected to tell you, my dear. You see, I knew your mother."

I blinked. I opened my mouth to speak but ended up just blinking some more. Finally I forced out a strained, "Excuse me?" I looked over at John, hoping Magneto was joking, but he shook his head slightly and nodded to the man in front of me.

Stepping forward slightly, Magneto took up my hands in his. I swallowed hard.

"Your mother had the incredible ability to see the future through dreams. She saw the potential of being in the Brotherhood early on. She was a good friend of mine. I can't tell you how proud I am that you are following in her footsteps."

I pulled away suddenly, stepping back and shaking my head in disbelief. "Wait, wait, wait. I have no idea what you're talking about. My dreams aren't prophetic or anything like that. They're just . . . dreams."

Magneto did not look perturbed by my skepticism. "My dear, they are so much more than just dreams. Am I correct in assuming that you are experiencing the same dream . . . more than once?"

I chewed hard on my bottom lip; my mind whirling around so fast it was making me dizzy. My dreams _couldn't_ be prophetic. That meant . . . that meant that I was really going to hurt that winged man sometime in the future, and that was too horrible to think about. My stomach heaved unpleasantly. Turning away, I rushed to the closest tree and vomited into the shrubbery. I stayed there a moment, breathing hard, hands on my knees as a shudder ran through my body.

"I know this is hard for you to hear." Magneto's voice came from above me, and I felt his steady hand on my back. "But this is a very good thing. I had my suspicions but you never complained of strange dreams before and I did not realize. . . . We could use your extraordinary gifts in our plans."

That didn't exactly make me feel any better. I had heard his speech that he aired on the TV. I knew without a shadow of a doubt now that Magneto's plan was to destroy the cure. And as much as being normal appealed to me, I knew I could not stand in his way. But that did not mean that I would help him achieve his goals. He had no respect for human life, which was clear when he had John attack the Cure center in the city. I had no doubt that he would kill to get to that cure, and I wanted no part of that.

However I could not say no to Magneto. Finally I sighed and straightened, turning to him with a frown. "My dreams are all scrambled up. There's no way I'd be able to pinpoint a specific future event. I mean, my glass manipulation is my ability. This dream stuff is only a shadow of an inherited mutation, right? I mean, what else could it be?"

Magneto thought for a moment. "That could be. However I would like you to try. Go back to sleep, concentrate on our goal, perhaps that will help direct your thoughts."

I sighed, knowing there was no getting out of this. Nodding tiredly, I made my way back to my sleeping bag. I had taken a spot out in the open near Jean's tent. She was never there though, and I was almost tempted to go inside, but for some reason the hairs on my arm stood on end whenever stepped past the front flap, and so I avoided it.

Lying down, I pulled the top of the sleeping bag over my head and shut my eyes, trying to fall back asleep and thinking about the cure as Magneto suggested. I could hear someone come and sit next to me, but I ignored them. I had no idea what the cure looked like, so I settled for the idea of the cure. I was positive this wouldn't work, but I didn't want to go back to Magneto without having tried.

Thankfully I was still sleepy enough to fall back to sleep fairly quickly, even with my brain working a thousand miles an hour. Unfortunately the only thing I saw was that violent video game, where I was being led out by the boy whose face I couldn't see. It went the same as always:

"_Where are we going?" I ask, ducking behind a building. I try to see the face of the boy helping me, but he keeps his gaze away from me, watching a side alleyway._

"_I'm going to keep you safe," he says._

"_Why?"_

"_Come on!" he interrupts, standing and pulling me up beside him. Together we start to run, gunfire popping loudly behind us. We're just reaching the edge of the 3D city when I stop short._

"_I'm not going any further until you tell me who you are," I say, gasping for breath._

_He turns to look at me, finally. But before I can see his face, the dream is snatched away and replaced with a different one._

_Jean stands in the middle of chaos. Stuff is swirling around her but so fast I can't see it. She trusts her face toward the sky and screams. But then everything goes black and I wake up._

I sat up quickly, gasping for breath. John frowned down at me, and I frowned back.

"Were you there the whole time?" I asked.

"Magneto wanted me to keep an eye on you," he admitted, not the least bit sheepishly. "He wanted me to tell him what you saw."

"Well tell him I saw nothing that'll help us," I snapped, running a hand through my short black hair agitatedly. "It wasn't about the cure. And what it was about makes no sense in real life, so I doubt it was anything that will happen in the future." I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I still thought it was incredibly strange that Magneto could have known my mom, though I suppose it wasn't entirely impossible. I mean, she had a life before I . . .

Swallowing hard, I stood. John rose to his feet as well, watching my face carefully.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," I snapped. "Go report to Magneto or whatever it is you need to do. He's probably waiting on pins and needles to hear your incredibly important news."

His jaw clenched, I could see the muscles working back and forth as he tried to contain his temper. He opened his mouth then as if to say something, then quickly closed it and shook his head before moving off toward Magneto's tent.

I dropped back to my sleeping back, sitting crossed-legged on it, dropping my head into my hands. This was all too much. I hated this place, I decided. I didn't want to be here. I wanted to be . . .

Frowning, I realized I had no idea where I wanted to be. I couldn't go back to the School, I didn't have a job anymore, and my apartment was probably already rented off to someone else. I had no place to go. I had to stay with the Brotherhood. And that is probably exactly what Magneto wanted to happen. He wanted me to depend on him and the Brotherhood. It left me with no choice but to follow him.

I lay down, placing my hands behind my head as I stared up at the tree limbs above the camp, swaying gently in the breeze. One hand came down to clutch my silver-gold heart, and my thoughts turned involuntarily to Peter. The last I'd seen of him was in Madame LaDonna's crystal ball. I realized I missed him. I missed him and Artie and Jones. But I knew there was no way they could possibly bring me back, not after what I had done to them. Not after what I was going to do with the Brotherhood. The X-Men were about protecting humans, like some sort of superheroes I guess. Which made us the villains. Which made me a villain.

Inhaling sharply, I held my breath a moment before letting it out slowly. Of course I was the villain. I had always been a villain, right from the beginning. Magneto had seen that, so had John. Why else would they have wanted me on their side so badly? Aside from my powers, they knew I was vulnerable to their side. I was unable to form a strong attachment to any of the heroes, so naturally I must gravitate toward the villains, right?

But then I thought of Artie and Jones. I grown attached to them. I loved them, I knew. They were like the brothers I had never had. Though now they surely hated me. Artie had even said it to my face. He hated me. And Madame LaDonna practically accused me of breaking Peter's heart. He couldn't want me back. In fact, I would not be surprised one bit of he and Kitty got together. They would be perfect, really. With her bubbly, friendly attitude and his quiet, patient one.

But even as I agreed that such a pairing would be acceptable, my heart twisted painfully. For some reason I did not want Peter to be happy with anyone. As selfish as it was . . . I wanted him to miss me. Which was totally ridiculous and cruel since I didn't like him in that way . . . right?

Suddenly I was confused. So many conflicting thoughts and feelings were spinning around inside of me. If I hadn't just been sick a little while ago, I was sure I would throw up again. I clutched my stomach and groaned. As much pain as I was in, I could not help but feel somewhat hopeful. Maybe I would be in too much pain to go with Magneto and the rest to destroy the cure.

Unfortunately, aside from a splitting headache, I felt fine the day we left the park to head for the west coast. Realizing I really had no choice, while Multiple Man made enough copies of himself to play as both teams in the World Series, I traveled with the rest of the Brotherhood toward Alcatraz Island.

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**We're getting closer to the big battle at Alcatraz! However, the story is far from being done. Review and tell me what you think of the chapter. XD**


	16. Chapter XV

**A/N: Again, not as long as I would like it to be, but I wanted to end it where it is. (I'm taking the whole fight scene from memory and notes I've taken, so sorry if it's sketchy.)  
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****Chapter XV**

I have to admit: Magneto moving the Golden Gate Bridge to Alcatraz was pretty impressive. However, I could not simply ignore the growing ache in my chest as I watched it get closer and closer to its destination. I winced every time a cable snapped, knowing that the humans around us must be terrified. I did my best not to look at them.

John was standing nearby, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet he was so anxious to charge the island and raze the place to the ground. For some reason a lump rose in my throat as I stared at him. This upcoming battle would change everything. I knew that. And as much as things needed to change, and as much as I didn't like the guy, I didn't want John to get hurt. I had been responsible for so much pain among my peers I could not stand for John to get wounded in any way, not if I could help it. I knew it wouldn't be necessarily my fault if he was, but in any case I would strive to make sure nothing would happen to him.

I grabbed his elbow and pulled him aside as the others got ready to cross into Alcatraz. He frowned with slight annoyance at being drawn away from his place by Magneto's side.

"What do you want, Shard?" he asked, his gaze drifting to the building looming closer and closer.

"Don't get hurt out there," I said as quickly as I could.

With a start he looked back at me, his frown deepening. Slowly a smirk worked its way up his mouth, although for some reason his eyes looked confused and were searching mine hesitantly.

"See? I knew you loved me," he said.

I rolled my eyes and punched his arm. Hard. I smiled grimly in satisfaction as he winced and then rubbed the spot indignantly.

"I just don't want to see you get hurt. As much as I hate your guts, I don't _entirely_ loathe you. In fact, as pathetic as it sounds, you're really my only friend right now." My cheeks burned at the admission and the growing smirk on John's smug face.

"Come on, this'll be easier than stealing candy from a baby," he said, full of confidence I didn't share. "I'm not going to get hurt."

"And when the X-Men show up?" I prodded.

He snorted. "_If_ they show up, they'll be no match for us. I mean, come on, look at the army we've got." He waved his arm around, indicating the many members of the Brotherhood.

I bit my lip and nodded, knowing I was now just embarrassing myself. I stepped back. Unfortunately he followed and patted my arm lightly.

"But I'll be sure to let you examine me for wounds afterwards. I'm sure you'll have fun playing doctor." He winked at me, and I was kind of glad to see his old annoying, perverted personality again. Even so I gave him another punch for that remark.

By that time the bridge had reached Alcatraz. And the sun was setting on the horizon. John went up to stand beside his beloved leader. I hesitated then joined him. I figured the best place to be, strategically, was by Magneto's side. Perhaps I wouldn't have to fight any of the X-Men by the time the rest of the Brotherhood finished battling through.

The group of soldiers exited the building as many of the Brotherhood rushed forward. Those I didn't know were instantly gunned down. I was surprised however when I saw no blood, only writhing . . . humans. The guns were shooting cure darts! Just like the ones that made Mystique human. Magneto tried to summon the guns to him, but nothing happened. They were made out of plastic, I realized.

Some of the darts headed right toward us, but Magneto lifted pieces of the bridge to cover us and they _pinged_ harmlessly off the metal. However the rest of the battlefield was in mayhem, with Mutants falling left and right, humans once more. I was beginning to wonder if that would be it. If we would lose to these simple humans with their plastic guns.

But then Arclight stepped forward and smacked her hands together hard. A shockwave rolled out from her hands and the guns exploded from the pressure. Instantly the tide turned and the Mutants began killing. I looked on grimly. As much as I hated that we had to kill to get to the cure, at least at this pace we would destroy it quickly and be able to get back to the forest and mind our own business. At least I would be able to do that. I wasn't entirely sure what Magneto had planned for himself and John.

But then the X-Men arrived. They must have jumped from the jet because suddenly they were falling from the sky. I saw Wolverine, his claws slowing his descent as he dragged them through the walls of the Worthington's Lab building. Professor Storm flew down on the wind, her eyes white with her power. A giant blue creature with a hairy face leaped down like a cat. I couldn't recognize him from this distance. A metallic body slammed into the earth, and the blood drained from my face. It was Peter in Colossus form. Soon after I saw Bobby and Kitty rising from the ground. The sick feeling in my stomach returned as soon as I laid eyes on them, and I touched my chopped, dyed hair self-consciously, wondering if they would recognize me in the dark and chaos.

They stood in a straight line, so few against so many. The Brotherhood outnumbered them with their numbers. I had not realized until then just how futile the X-Men mission would be. They would not be able to stop us. We were too powerful, too great in numbers. They would all be destroyed. Magneto would see to it.

He sounded the charge, and so did the blue X-Men member. The fight instantly grew more violent as Mutant battled Mutant. From my vantage point I could see everything. John tried to go forward (most likely to attack Bobby), but Magneto held him back. Instead a girl who went by Callisto went after Storm, and the giant who called himself the Juggernaut broke through the building, chasing after a slender girl who had phased through the wall. Kitty. No doubt she was going after the cure. As much as I wanted the cure destroyed so all this could end already, I definitely did _not_ want Kitty to get hurt.

I almost went after her. But just then Magneto nodded at me, and I knew now was my turn to join the fight. As much as it pained me to turn against my old friends, I knew I would never get out of her alive if I didn't. Taking a deep breath, I lifted my hands toward the many shards of glass caused by broken windows of cars and the Lab building itself.

Thousands of pieces of varying sizes rose into the air. Closing my eyes against the inevitable sight of blood and cries of pain, I flung them toward the X-Men. The strain of handling so many shards didn't weaken me like they had back at the Mansion, but I could feel traces of my headache returning.

Opening my eyes, I surveyed the damaged I had caused. To my surprise almost none of the shards had reached their destination. At least not in a wounding sense. Wolverine knocked away the shards coming at him with his claws, Bobby ducked, and the blue beast sustained a couple cuts but not many. The pieces simply shattered when they rammed into Colossus's massive metallic chest.

They knew I was here though. I could see Colossus's head jerk up and his silver eyes scanned the battlefield. Not wanting him to see me, I stepped behind John. Unable to resist, I leaned my forehead against his back, drawing in a shaking breath, and taking some slight comfort in his warmth. I felt his back shake as John chuckled.

"Don't worry, Madi. When the time comes, I'll take care of your boyfriend for you."

I didn't have the strength to smack him for the remark. Instead I looked over at Magneto who was frowning at me.

"That did not tire you too much, my dear?" He said it more like a statement than a question.

Knowing he expected more from me, I straightened and shook my head, pushing sweaty black strands away from my face. "No, sir," I said quietly.

"Good. Good. Perhaps you would be more effective in the field. I believe I've trained you well enough."

I nodded and stepped around Pyro. To my relief, Colossus was now engaged in fighting another Mutant and was no longer looking for me. I started down into the battle, pausing when Magneto called out to me,

"I expect to see you return unscathed, my dear."

I glanced over my shoulder and nodded to him before glancing over at Jean. I could not believe she was just standing their watching her friends and comrades get hurt. I know she loved Professor Summers, and shared a close friendship with Logan, but she just stood there, doing nothing to help the X-Men. I wondered again how she had come to be with Magneto. And why she seemed so . . . different.

As I ventured carefully into the battle, I looked around for someone I could fight. Storm was busy with Callisto and it looked like the professor was winning. There was no way I was going after Bobby or Colossus. I supposed I could try the blue beast, but then decided on Logan. He did not know me very well, I doubted he even remembered our brief encounter at the Christmas party, and I knew he could heal. I could fight him and not worry about killing him. I would probably lose, but maybe he wouldn't kill me. Maybe he would take me back to the School with him. Maybe . . .

I was drawing close to him when I happened to glance up. Two small figures were pushing a third small figure off the roof. I stared, horrified, as I watched the man fall. But then, quite suddenly, he was snatched out of the sky by a . . .

My blood turned cold.

It was a winged man.

All my dreams of a winged man came back to me. What were the odds I would see a man with beautiful white wings just like in my dream? It was too much of a coincidence for me not to pay attention. Magneto had said my mother could see the future. That I had the same gift. I had seen a winged man but had thought nothing of it really. They were just nightmares.

But suddenly they felt very, very real.

I didn't even notice Wolverine coming toward me until he was right on top of me. He grabbed my necklace. I started in surprise and shifted my gaze from the sky to his wild hazel gaze. His eyebrows were drawn close together as he stared down at the white gold rose. Then he looked up at me, and I saw faint recognition in his eyes as he studied my face closely.

A Mutant ran at him from the side but he sliced through the assailant without even turning.

"I know you," Wolverine growled in puzzlement, trying to figure out who I was.

The smell of blood became sharp in my nose and I felt even sicker than before. The world grew fuzzy around me and Logan's face went in and out of focus. There was a roaring sound in my ears. Like the ocean. All I could think of was the flying man. With the white wings. And the blood. There was blood all around me. There was blood all over the winged man's chest. He was crying. The tears were mixed with the blood. And all I could do was stare and stare.

"The wings . . ."

That was all I could say before my knees buckled, and I pitched forward, smacking into Wolverine's chest. He jumped back instinctively and tried to catch me, but I slid past his hands. My head struck a sharp object and my vision went completely black.

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**Ahhhh! Another cliffhanger!!! Review and tell me what you think! (Next chapter should be up soon.)**


	17. Chapter XVI

**A/N: In honor of**** Bobby Lu's birthday, ya'll get a chapter much faster than usual. Happy birthday, Lu! XD 3**** (By the way, I was very impressed with the number of reviews my last chapter got. Maybe I should end on cliffhangers more often. ;) )**

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****Chapter XVI**

When I opened my eyes I was inside the jet. I recognized it immediately, even though it had been almost three years since I had ridden in it. It was moving smoothly through the air, the engines humming so quietly I had to strain to hear them. Voices were whispering somewhere to my right. Slowly I sat up and the voices stopped.

"Careful!" a familiar voice spoke up quickly as I swung my legs off the bench I was on. "You had a pretty nasty fall onto sharp debris. We fixed you up the best we could, but you're going to need to go to the hospital wing as soon as we get back to the school."

It was Kitty. She was speaking to me politely, like one would talk to a stranger. I felt a strange pressure on my head and face and reached up to feel bandages wrapped around the top half of my face. The person who had tended to me had either not recognized me, or had failed to mention who I was.

Instinctively I reached for my necklace, and then panicked when my hand came up empty. I searched my pockets frantically but could not find it. Closing my eyes, I took several deep breaths to calm myself. Now was not the time to lose control. I would need to keep up the façade of Madelyn Shard if I wanted to make sure they would let me go my own way once we touched ground.

When I opened my eyes, Kitty was watching me closely. Avoiding her gaze, I looked to the front of the aircraft. Storm was piloting, as usual, and the rest of the X-Men from Alcatraz were there. Deep inside my heart I breathed a sigh of relief. None of them had been killed. Not even the blue beast. I could not see a winged man among those in the front, and doubt entered my mind. Had I imagined the flying Mutant snatching that man out of the air?

Before I could dwell on it for long, I noticed a somber young boy sitting next to Kitty. His head was shaved bald and his blue eyes regarded me curiously from beneath dark brown brows. He was dressed completely in white, which puzzled me. I did not recognize him as one of the Brotherhood, but he was not wearing the X-Men uniform.

My confused look caught Kitty's gaze, and she put her arm around the boy's shoulders, smiling slightly. It was then that I detected a change in her. Her buoyant personality was gone and in its place was a young woman much older and much sadder than a girl of sixteen should have been.

"This is Jimmy," she said. "But you know him as the Cure."

I blinked blankly and then blinked again. My mouth went slack and the blood drained from my face. I felt weak and an aching wave crashed over my head. Lifting my hand to my temple, I winced as I touched the sore spot.

"Wait . . . the cure . . . was a-a _Mutant_?" I stumbled over my words, feeling sick to my stomach. It was a feeling I was beginning to get used to. It still did not take away the horror that filled me, however. We had gone to Alcatraz to perform murder. I would have assisted it. I knew then and there that I could never go back to the Brotherhood.

My voice was hoarse and somewhat slurred. I had a feeling I had been dosed with painkillers. Oh well, at least they would not be able to recognize my voice.

The boy . . . Jimmy . . . he continued to watch me closely, taking in my reaction without much emotion. It seemed as though he were used to being stared at. I shook my head slowly, trying to clear it. However as soon as I did, fresh pain exploded where my wound was. I paused, grimacing slightly.

"Take it easy," Kitty said gently. "I'm sure you have a major headache right now."

She had no idea. I struggled to ignore the pain as I looked between Jimmy and Kitty.

"How . . . ?" I croaked, pointing at the boy, confused as to how a boy could be the cure.

"They used my DNA," Jimmy answered before Kitty could. He glanced at the girl beside him who nodded encouragingly. With a sigh he looked down at his hands which were clasped neatly in his lap. "Your . . . powers, abilities, whatever you call them. They don't work around me."

"You stand just a foot or two from him and your Mutant gene is repressed," Kitty went on with the explanation as Jimmy fell silent. "Temporarily of course. As soon as you move away it comes back. But a foot or anything closer . . . nothing."

Before I could ask another question, a groan sounded from the back. I glanced over and my eyes widened. John Allerdyce lay on the hard metal floor of the jet, his face twisted in pain. A large, ugly bruise graced his forehead, but other than that he was perfectly fine as far as I could see. A surge of relief overwhelmed me, and I lurched forward out of my seat, kneeling beside him. I pulled his head into my lap and stroked his face and hair gently, tears coming to my eyes. I was glad he was not hurt, but I blamed myself. I should not have passed out. I should have stayed by him, taken care of him.

Of course I knew he would not have appreciated that at all. Besides, I hated him didn't I? But being here, in the X-Men's jet, the only two Brotherhood members around for miles, I felt akin to him, and really he was my only friend in that place. Kitty and the rest didn't know who I was. They didn't recognize me. To them I was the enemy they had taken in because . . .

I frowned, a movement that made my wound scream at me as the skin around it stretched tight.

"What happened?" I choked out finally, glancing up at Kitty, my fingers continuing their ministrations.

Her face was grim. "Beast got Magneto with the cure," she started, and I figured Beast must be the blue man's codename. "Wolverine tried to get to Pro-um, Phoenix, but she started disintegrating everything. Mostly everyone got away though. Wolverine gave you to Colossus, telling him to take you to the jet, and Iceman brought Pyro. Wolverine had to kill Phoenix. Then everything stopped." Tears were gathering in her eyes and it took me a moment to realize who she was talking about. There was only one person I knew in the Brotherhood who had the ability of telekinesis powerful enough to disintegrate something. Phoenix was a name I didn't recognize. And I knew the code names of everyone close to Magneto. Except one.

"Jean is dead?" I asked, forcing the words out even though I couldn't believe that she was gone . . . again.

Kitty nodded miserably. "She was . . . different. Phoenix had taken control. She-she wasn't the same Jean we knew."

I stiffened for a moment, thinking she was drawing me into that "we," like she knew who I was. But when I looked up, she was staring over at the rest of the X-Men.

This was all too confusing for me at the moment. Jean was dead again, for good this time it seemed, and I had helped assist the attempted murder of a child. John was unconscious, and I was wounded and heading for Xavier's school. No one knew who I was, and my body was fighting exhaustion and weakness. Kitty's words meshed and jumbled in my mind and even though she started talking again, I heard only droning.

Closing my eyes, I leaned back against the wall behind me and let tears of fatigue and pain and frustration roll down my cheeks, soaking into the bandages. I was so close to my friends yet so far away. I was cradling the head of the young man who had always been thorn in my side, and my heart ached from losing so much in so short a time. My hand lifted toward my neck. I felt the absence of the necklace as if a limb had been severed from me.

"What's your name?"

The question came as though from very far away. It traveled miles and miles to reach my ears and when my brain finally registered that someone had asked me something, I was half-asleep.

"Shard," I replied sluggishly. "I'm called Shard."

Then silence descended and I let the dreams carry me away from the pain and longing within me.

00000

The first thing I felt when I came to was slender fingers tracing something on my face. I kept my eyes closed, not wanting to open them until I knew who was touching me. The bandages were gone, and the person must have been very close for I felt his or her breath on my uncovered, still tender skin.

The fingers trailed gently down my cheek, moving lightly over my lips, pausing underneath my jaw where my pulse pressed back weakly. A whoosh of air flew past my ear as the person exhaled in a sigh. I waited for whoever it was to speak, my curiosity almost getting the better of me.

But then someone else entered the room and the hand quickly retracted itself. Almost guiltily it seemed.

"Is she awake?" A deep rumbling voice. A voice I recognized well. It took all my willpower not to whisper his name. _Peter_.

"Not yet," said a second voice, very close to me. It was younger, slightly higher, but deeper than a girl's voice. I racked my brain trying to recognize the voice, but it wasn't until the person spoke again that I realized who it was. "I thought I saw her fingers move a moment ago, but that might have been my imagination."

It was Jones, his voice in the process of changing from that of a child to that of a man. His tone was wistful, sad. I had expected his first reaction to me to be full of resentful anger.

"Are you _sure_ it's Madi?" Jones went on. "She looks different. Her hair . . . and her face . . ."

"It's just the color and the scar. But other than that she looks exactly the same to me."

"How come Kitty didn't recognize her?"

"She never saw her like I did."

There was a pause and my heart sped up involuntarily. I couldn't be Madison Clark here. I just _couldn't_. As soon as I was completely healed I had to leave. I had to keep up my charade. It was the only way to ensure I would be able to tear myself away again. If they thought I was someone else, they wouldn't try to stop me. They wouldn't try to convince me to stay . . .

My heart twisted painfully at the thought. Because deep down I knew . . . I _knew_ I would stay if they asked me to. If _he_ asked me to. I had missed them all that much. Tears threatened to fill my eyes, but I pushed them back resolutely and slipped into the role of Madelyn Shard, knowing this would be the hardest role I had ever acted my entire life.

"John?" I called out, hating the fact that I had to use him as a crutch. He would never let me forget it.

My eyes fluttered open, and I frowned in confusion at Jones and Peter above me. Jones inhaled sharply and looked up at Peter, who stared down at me stoically. Jones looked taller than I remembered. Older. Still, he wore the same glasses, and his bottom lip pulled down into the familiar pout when he realized I did not recognize them. Peter looked exactly the same. And my breath almost caught when I saw that smoldering look in his deep brown eyes. I had forgotten what it had felt like, being on the end of that gaze. It froze me for a moment, and I was afraid I would give myself away, but I forced myself to look away and the spell was broken.

"Where's John?" I asked, pushing panic into my voice. "Is he okay? Who are you? What have you done with him?"

I made as if to sit up, but then the headache hit me and I gasped at the pain, clutching my head as though it hurt more than it did. Madison Clark was used to headaches.

Jones's expression crumpled and it broke my heart to see the accusing look he gave Peter. The look that said _"You _told_ me it would be Madi."_ Taking a deep breath, Jones rearranged his features to one of polite compassion for this girl that looked so much like his beloved Madi yet was a different person entirely.

"Pyro . . . John. He's fine," the boy-who-was-not-a-boy reassured me, patting my shoulder awkwardly. "If you take this medicine, I can take you to him." He reached over to the bedside table and I realized I was in the hospital wing of the School. I made my eyes skitter around the place as though it was unfamiliar, and I was afraid. Jones handed me a small cup of water and an even smaller cup of pills.

Peter's jaw worked back and forth, and he continued to watch me as I downed the pills as quickly as I could. I felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny. I had a feeling I was not fooling him one little bit, but he said nothing as Jones helped me stand and then led me out of the room.

His fingers held my wrist lightly. It seemed as though he wanted to hold my hand but knew he couldn't. He wanted so badly for me to be Madi, his friend, and the struggle to ask about her was plain on his face. I yearned to wrap my arms around him, hold him close and tell him I was back. To stay this time.

But I couldn't. I wouldn't. I was Madelyn Shard. And Shard's only friend was Pyro. The one who knew everything about her. Who knew her closest secret. The one she had hidden from everyone at the School, knowing it would destroy the relationships she had come to depend on.

Jones led me to the floor where the bedrooms were. He took me to one near the end of the hall, the only one with a lock on the door and a guard. I wondered why they were guarding John but not me. I didn't recognize the guard, but when Peter nodded to him, he nodded back and unlocked the door, pushing it open and gesturing inside.

"He was sleeping last I checked," the guard said, looking at me and doing his best not to appear curious and remain professional.

I stepped into the room, noticing immediately that it had no windows. John was lying on a simple bed, his hands behind his head, his forehead still discolored. His eyes were closed, but when I drew nearer, they snapped open and regarded me for a moment. Then he laughed.

"I was wondering when you'd come to me, Shard," he said with a smirk. "Come to play doctor?"

I heard Peter growl behind me, but I ignored him and rushed to John's side, flinging my arms around him and burying my face in his neck. He stiffened in surprise, his hands coming out from behind his head and hanging in the air as though he were unsure what to do.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked softly.

"I can't let them know who I am," I murmured back. "I have to stay Shard. You wouldn't understand."

He placed his hands on my back, and I could feel his body relaxing now that he knew I was not attacking him. "Heh, I think I understand," he muttered, and I could hear the smirk in his voice. "But don't you think your little friends will recognize you anyway?"

"Not if I play this right," I whispered. "And I, ugh, I need your help. I have to make sure they'll let me go and the only way I can do that is if I continue to play Madelyn Shard. I'll make her weak; shy; angry at the Mutants who stopped us and afraid of the X-Men. They're so nice they won't bother me much. That'll keep them from observing too closely."

"Kitty'll try to be your friend," John pointed out, playing absently with my hair. I let him for the sake of the picture we were painting for the benefit of Peter and Jones.

"I'll avoid her. Peter and the boys too. It's the only way, John. And if you help me, when the time is right, I'll get you out of here too."

There was a pause while he thought over my words. "What makes you think they won't just cart us off to a Mutant prison somewhere as soon as they know we're well enough to travel?" he asked finally.

That was a good point. I racked my brain for a solution.

"I won't let them send you anywhere without me, but I'll give them little signs that'll keep them doubting whether or not I'm really Madison Clark or not."

"Well it's not the best plan in the world, but seeing as they took away any flammable object in here, it'll have to do."

I pulled away and looked down into his eyes, wondering if I could really trust him. He smiled crookedly, and there was a fire in his eyes that frightened me. I knew if given the materials, he would burn this entire place to the ground. I had to make sure our escape was as bloodless as possible.

Pressing his fingers into my scalp, John pushed my face down to his and kissed me firmly. I resisted the urge to slap him for taking advantage of my plan like that, but knew I couldn't if I wanted to remain Madelyn Shard. When I was finally able to pull away, he traced the side of my face that had hit the debris. I remembered what Peter had said about a scar and knew there must be one there now. Ah well, that will help with keeping my appearance different than Madison's at least. I would need to get new clothes too. Clothes they weren't used to seeing Madi in. Maybe I could borrow some from Jubilee.

"Maybe I'll convince you we make a good team after all," John said before I could pull away completely.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the door. Peter was watching with grim expression and Jones looked somewhat ill. When I approached them, he took a small step back.

"You're not Madi, are you?" he asked, a defeated look entering his eyes.

As much as I wanted to tell him the truth, I steeled myself and shook my head. Looking up at Peter, I made my voice lower than it usually was as I answered.

"No. I'm not. My name is Shard. John's my boyfriend. I've been with the Brotherhood almost my entire life. I'm sorry, but I'm not your friend."

With that I turned away and walked back down the hall, my back stiff, my chin quivering involuntarily. I tightened my jaw and when Jones and Peter joined me at the end of the hall, my face was warily impassive.

"Professor Storm will want to talk to you later today," Jones said, keeping his gaze on the wall behind me. I realized with a start he was as tall as I was. "In the meantime, I'll take you to the room you'll be staying in until . . ." he trailed off, unsure of how to say what needed to be said without sounding insensitive.

"They decide what to do with me?" I asked tightly.

"Exactly." Peter's voice was cold, but it burned through my chest like acid.

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**I don't think she'll be able keep up this charade for very long, do you? ;P Review and tell me what you think of the chapter!**


	18. Chapter XVII

**A/N: Wow, the inspiration just keeps coming and coming! I think part of the reason is all the reviews I've been getting. Keep up the awesome review work! I (and my Muse) appreciate the support very much!  
**

**A/N 2: Normally I don't do this, but Bobby Lu raised some important questions that I felt needed to be touched on before I continued.**

**1. How come Jones and Kitty don't recognize Madi?**

**It's been 2 years since they've seen her last. Her hair is black and cut short (whereas before it was long and light brown), she now has a large scar on half her face, and she's developed more. Also after two years with John and Magneto being fed the "Mutants are superior and humans are worth nothing, blah, blah, blah" speech constantly, her facial expressions have changed. We haven't seen it so far because Madi hasn't noticed yet, but her eyes are colder, and her face is in an almost constant expression of either superiority or obstinacy. **

**So basically she looks very different than what they remember Madi to look like. Also, when Kitty had seen Madi, she still had bandages on.**

**2. The hugging scene was so long that the boys had to have been suspicious.**

**Yes, they were. Obviously a conversation took place but since they couldn't hear anything, they didn't mention it. But Jones knew how much Madi hated John and knew she wouldn't talk to him for more than two seconds, let alone hug him or let him kiss her. So he came to the conclusion that it wasn't Madison. Peter, however, is still suspicious. **

**

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****Chapter XVII**

"So. What are we going to do with you two?" Professor Storm looked down at me and John, her hands on her lips, frowning slightly.

John and I were seated at two chairs in the headmaster's office. Professor Xavier's office. Only he wasn't there anymore. Now Storm was in charge. The news of Professor Xavier's death had come as a shock to me. I had expected him to be not easily killed. But when John had explained to me how Phoenix had done it, I understood better. Still, I could not help but feel the loss, even through my hardening heart. Although I had not known him well, Professor Xavier had always been kind to me. I felt sorry for their loss.

"You could let us go," I said, and she looked at me sharply. I could tell she did not completely believe that I was not Madison Clark, but apparently it was hard to tell, for she had yet to challenge me about it. When she had asked what my ability was, I had replied with my second one. I told her I could see the future through dreams.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple," the Professor went on. "Technically you are both prisoners of war."

"But you defeated Magneto," I pointed out. "Should that mean then that the war is over?" I glanced hesitantly over at John who simply shrugged, looking bored with the whole conversation. He was slumped down in his seat, looking very much like a juvenile delinquent forced to go to the principal's office.

"There are many Mutants in your Brotherhood who got away that night," Storm replied. "We cannot allow you to join them and tell how to get through our defenses. I'm afraid you both are too much of a security risk to let go."

"But . . .?" John prodded, looking up at her for the first time since we had arrived in the room.

"But I am anxious about letting you stay here without any way to monitor you. You must not be allowed to roam free and discover ways to infiltrate from the inside. Therefore I've come to the conclusion that you both have to stay, under guard, until such time as you prove yourselves not a threat. I cannot allow you do anything detrimental to this School. If you do, there will be serious consequences." Her eyes were cold as she regarded us.

"Don't worry, teach," John said with a lazy smirk. "If I step out of line I'll be happy to let you spank me."

I smacked his arm. Partly to keep up the appearance of his girlfriend, partly because I was annoyed. For a moment I wished he would go back to his brooding, sulky personality. At least that one kept crude comments to himself.

To her credit, Storm didn't so much as bat an eye. I guess she was used to it, having taught him since he was a kid. Twisting my hands nervously in my lap, I glanced toward the door.

"Who's going to guard us?" I asked, hoping it wasn't going to be anyone I knew well.

"Surprisingly two of our X-Men volunteered for this job before I even asked them," Storm said, consulting a sheet of paper behind her on the large desk. "Iceman volunteered to keep watch over you, John. Whereas . . . what did you say your name was?" She glanced askance at me, that suspicious look once more in her dark eyes.

I cleared my throat nervously. "Shard. Madelyn Shard."

"I see. And you have . . . prophetic dreams." She sounded as if she didn't believe me.

Squaring my jaw, I looked her directly in the eye. "Yes," I said firmly. "I do."

"You'll forgive me for questioning you. You just look very much like a former student. Her name was close to yours. Madison. Madison Clark."

I shook my head slowly. "Never heard of her."

"Everyone has a twin," John supplied, shrugging again. "So I've heard."

"Yes, so I've heard as well." Storm pursed her lips and did not look entirely convinced, but she looked down at her sheet of paper once more and continued where she left off.

"Madelyn, you will be under the watchful eye of Colossus."

I tried my hardest not to react, I really did. But the thought of being followed around by Peter caused my body to work against me. I paled and a shiver ran down my spine. John didn't look too happy with his guard either.

"Iceman . . . that's Bobby Drake, isn't it," he grumbled, scowling.

"Yes, it is."

He cursed. Loudly. Storm didn't flinch. I did however, and she regarded me again with those cool dark eyes. Then she turned and went to sit behind the desk. For a moment none of us moved, but then she looked up and nodded.

"You are both dismissed. Colossus and Iceman are waiting for you in the hall."

John cursed again, but I stood and grabbed his sleeve, tugging it until he stood and followed me out the door. Sure enough, there were Peter and Bobby, both watching us without expression. However I thought I saw a flicker of sadness in Bobby's eyes as he watched his former friend approach. As I looked at him, I realized my feelings for him had changed. I no longer felt that rush of heat enter my body, my heart didn't pound, and my hands were cool and dry. Whatever insane crush I had had on him two years ago was now gone.

John wasted no time showing Bobby just what he thought of the young man being his prison guard. Quicker than either of them could react, John shot his fist out and hit Bobby hard on the jaw. Peter reacted instinctively, grabbing John and slamming him up against the wall, his massive forearm pressed against John's throat.

"That was for Alcatraz," John spat hoarsely, not even bothering to struggle in Peter's grasp.

Bobby worked his jaw back and for experimentally, rubbing it a little ruefully. His eyes still looked sad as he studied the sneering John.

"Let him go, Pete," he said softly. After a brief hesitation, Peter complied, moving away from the wall as John massaged his sore throat, still glaring at Bobby.

"Don't make this harder on yourself," Bobby advised. "You're stuck here, so you might as well get used to having me around."

John laughed coldly. "What you want to be friends again? Huh? Is that what you want, Bobby-boy? I think you should keep an eye on your little girlfriend. She's the one that ran off on you. And that hurt, didn't it?"

Bobby clenched his jaw tightly: I could see a muscle twitch. "Rogue's back, John. She took the cure, and she's willing to forgive and forget. I am too."

He held his hand out and the look on his face softened slightly. To my amazement, John actually seemed to consider Bobby's offer. He stared down at his former friend's outstretched hand for a long moment. Then his body jerked away almost convulsively, and he spat on the ground.

"You both are pathetic," he snarled.

Bobby let his hand fall to his side, disappointment clouding his expression. Then he shook his head slightly and gestured down the hall. "Back to your room then."

John said nothing only moved past Bobby, knocking his shoulder hard on the way. With a sigh, Bobby followed. I started to as well when a large hand grabbed my shoulder, stopping me. I glanced up at Peter then immediately wished I hadn't. The hard look on his face twisted my insides painfully. My gaze skittered away and fixed on his shoulder.

"Come with me," he rumbled. "I want you to see something."

I could hardly refuse. Still, I kept close to the wall as he led me down the opposite way. He did not seem to notice my reluctance to walk beside him; he kept his gaze firmly forward. I kept mine on the floor, afraid that if I looked up, I would meet the eyes of a student who might recognize me. I highly doubted anyone would, since I hadn't made a lot of friends during my stay here, but there was the odd chance I would catch Kitty's eyes if I was walking with Peter.

After what seemed like an eternity of walking in uncomfortable silence, Peter stopped, putting a hand out to stop me as well.

"Look," he said, and when I hesitated, he grabbed my face roughly, causing me to wince, and lifted it forcefully. "_Look_." I saw immediately what it was he wanted to show me.

We were standing in the doorway to the rec room. From there I could see the side of the couch. Jones was sitting there, his eyes fixed on the television, though he didn't seem to be watching what was on. It was a documentary covering the life cycle of the gnat . . . in Spanish. Beside him was Artie, sitting stiffly next to Jones. His gaze also stared blankly at the TV screen, the light reflecting of his shining eyes. I wondered why the glare was so bright before I realized that his eyes were wet. The long, thin stain of a tear graced his cheek, which I saw was not quite as round as it used to be.

Artie suddenly whipped his head around, meeting my gaze. Peter's hand slipped from my face reluctantly, but he grabbed my arm to keep me from running. He didn't need to. I couldn't have moved even if I wanted to. Artie looked hard at me and then stood, coming toward us. He stopped a couple feet from me, his hands balled at his side.

"Jones says you're not Madi," he said flatly.

At Artie's voice, Jones snapped out of whatever daze he had been in. Frowning, he stood and hurried over, planting himself in front of the smaller boy protectively.

"Careful," he warned. "She was with Magneto. She tried to kill the Cure." His eyes stared at me from behind his glasses, accusatory.

Artie shook his head. "Madi would never go with Magneto," he said confidently, though his chin quivered faintly.

"That's why she's not Madi," Jones told the younger boy. "She looks a bit like her, kinda. But she's not her. _She's_ the enemy."

Artie's chin quivered again. Seeing that, the hard look on Jones's face, and the defensive way he stood in front of Artie, like he believed I would hurt the boy, broke my heart. Tears of my own gathered in my eyes and I adverted my gaze. Seeing my expression, Peter released my arm.

There was a tense silence, as though they were waiting for me to speak. Waiting for me to deny everything and be their friend again.

"I-I . . ." my voice faltered. I choked on the lump in my throat. Turning abruptly, I pushed past Peter, running away down the hall.

I didn't stop until I was at the room they had given me. I flung myself on the bed, burying my face in the pillow. I didn't have to look up to know Peter was in the room when he arrived. I felt him there, hovering in the doorway.

"Why did you show me that?" I finally asked, my voice breaking. I sat up slowly, but kept my back to the door. "Why did you let them see me?"

"I wanted _you_ to see what you're doing to them," Peter said, his voice low. "What you're doing to us. You think pushing us away is going to make things easier? You're being selfish, Madi. I can't believe I have to tell you this, but it's true. You're hurting, fine. But we're hurting too. Pushing us away isn't going to help anything. You're afraid of forming attachments and think you're protecting yourself, but in the end you'll only find yourself alone. Is that _really_ what you want?"

I couldn't talk for a long time. Standing slowly, I moved over to the window, looking down at the courtyard of the School. Somehow I knew I wouldn't have been able to fool Peter with my charade. Why couldn't they just have accepted that I was gone and moved on? Why did they have to cling to me? I had tried to move. I _had_ moved on, hadn't I? The longer I stayed here the more I knew my convictions would be in question. I would crumble. I would fall. I wouldn't be able to pick myself up. And I was afraid. So very afraid.

"Yes," I whispered, so softly I wondered if he could even hear me.

"_Liar_," Peter snapped so sharply that I started in surprise. I had never heard soft-spoken Peter speak like this before. Before I could respond however, I felt him grab me from behind. He turned me around roughly before grabbing my chin and forcing me to look up at him.

I winced when I saw the fire in his eyes. My bottom lip trembled and I caught it between my teeth to steady it. My head was pounding, my chest aching. My heart beat so quickly I was afraid it would jump out of me. I wanted to break down crying. I wanted to grab him and hold him close, burying my face in his sculpted chest. But I held back those urges with the training Magneto had given me, pushing forth my anger instead.

I tore myself away from his grasp, though it hurt to do so.

"You know nothing. _Nothing_ about me. I was here for what? Six months? Not even that it feels like sometimes. When did you get to be such an expert about what I _want_?"

Peter stared down at me, his jaw working back and forth so roughly I thought I heard his teeth grind together. "You told me yourself, Madi," he said in a quiet voice that was almost as frightening as his sharp one.

"I didn't tell you _anything_," I spat, my voice rising. "That conversation after I fixed the school? Surface stuff, Peter! None of that went down to who I truly am."

"Then who are you then?" Peter said, suddenly loud again, stepping forward and grabbing my shoulders in his large hands. "WHO. ARE. YOU?"

"I'M A MURDERER!" I screamed, tearing myself away from him as the window behind me shattered outward.

I bolted out of the room as fast as I could. Sprinting down the long hallways, I ran and ran until I staggered to a stop in front of the room where they were keeping John. I pushed myself past the startled guard and entered the room, slamming the door behind me. John practically leaped out of his bed, I startled him that much.

I didn't even look at him as I went straight to a corner of the room and slid to the floor, curling my arms around my knees and burying my face in them.

"Madi?" he said, stunned out of calling me Shard.

I ignored him, taking deep, shaking breaths as I tried to stop the tears that were flowing down my cheeks. John stood there for a long moment, unsure of what to do. Finally he sighed and came over to me. Sitting down beside me, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and I collapsed into him, gripping his shirt tightly as I soaked it through. He wrapped his other arm around me and held me close, leaning his cheek against my hair after a moment. I could feel he was uncomfortable, but after a while of sitting there he started to relax. He even attempted comforting me with soft "shushing" sounds, though it sounded awkward coming from him. Still, it was the thought that counted and strangely I was comforted.

I don't know how long I stayed there, but finally the tears slowed and I started sniffing pitifully.

"I'm gonna have to burn this shirt now, you know," John said once he felt I had calmed down enough.

I choked on a laugh and lifted my head, wiping my face with my hands as best I could.

"Sorry," I muttered, seeing that I had indeed soaked his entire shirt.

He shrugged and stood, working out the kinks in his neck and arms and shaking his sleeping legs. I stood slowly, using the walls to support me. I leaned in the corner, watching dully as John removed his shirt and looked around for a new one. Apparently they hadn't given him any new clothes yet. Walking to the door, he knocked on it lightly and yelled for a new shirt.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, feeling weak and drained. When I opened my eyes again, John was right in front of me, watching me with a funny expression.

"So what happened?" he asked, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

"Peter knows," I said, my voice hoarse.

"Knows . . . about your . . ." he trailed off, watching me closely.

I nodded miserably.

"So?"

I glared at him. He put his hands up defensively.

"Okay, okay! Sorry. But listen, Shard. It's not that bad right? I mean, come on. You were going to leave this place anyway. And we were _not_ going to take him with us. So what's the big deal if he knows?"

I groaned and staggered over to the bed, tossing myself down on it. After a moment John came and sat down next to me.

"Did you tell him everything?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"Are you?"

I shrugged. I didn't know what I was going to do now. I didn't even know if Peter would ever talk to me again. Announcements like that usually killed relationships. It was only because Magneto and John were used to people like me that they had still welcomed me with open arms. A fact I would be forever grateful for, albeit grudgingly.

John sighed. "Well . . . whatever Shard. I'm not going to get involved in this. This is _your_ mess."

I turned and glared up at him. "Thanks a lot, _partner,_" I said scathingly, sniffing still.

John shrugged. "If there's nothing in it for me, I can't help you. That's how I work, Shard. You know that."

I rolled my eyes and turned all the way around to lie on my back, staring up at the ceiling.

"I can't go back out there," I admitted after minute.

"Well, you can't stay here. We'd kill each other."

I had to smirk faintly. Reaching down, John gently pushed a strand of sweaty hair away from my face, smoothing it back. He let his fingers then trace down the scar on my face. I had seen it in the mirror in the room they had given me. It was pretty bad. Running from above my left temple down across my cheek to my chin, it was thick with spidery lines of smaller scars spreading out from it. Whatever I had hit had scratched me up badly. The little ones might go away in time, but the big one I had for life. I guess it made me look gung-ho or whatever, but really it just served to remind me that I was no longer the Madison Clark who had almost fallen in love with Peter Rasputin.

John bent down to kiss me and I let him, too tired to smack him for it. When he pulled away, I reached up and placed a hand on his chest above his heart, feeling the beat through his warm skin as I pushed him back gently.

"Don't John," I said faintly. "Just don't."

For once he offered no crude remark or derisive comment. Instead he simply pursed his lips and then picked up my hand, holding it for a moment before putting it lightly on my stomach. My eyes were closing as he stood and made his way back to the door to ask what was taking so long with his shirt. When the darkness fell, the last thing I saw in my mind's eye was the stunned look of Peter after I had screamed my confession in his face.

What stayed was the faint glimpse of compassion I had seen there just before I ran away.

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**Ahhhh, now we're getting somewhere with Madi. There are obviously more layers to this, but we've just peeled back the most important one in this chapter (and I mean more than just Madi as well, kudos if you spot the other little subplot going on here). Review and tell me what you think of this chapter! I've been very impressed and flattered by the amount of reviews I've been getting lately. Keep it up! The next chapter should come soon.**


	19. Chapter XVIII

**A/N: Not as long as I wanted it to be, but my dad's kicking me off the computer. ;P**

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****Chapter XVIII**

I expected Peter to back out of being my guard after what had happened between us, but he kept it up, becoming my massive silent shadow. He kept far enough away, giving me privacy if I needed it. But I knew even when he was not in sight that he was watching my every move. The hairs on the back of my neck often prickled when I thought I was alone. I would look up, but see no one. But I new he was there, keeping constant vigil.

John did his best to avoid Bobby. Every chance he got he tried to give his former friend the slip. It often ended up with John locked in his room, shouting curses at Bobby. It hurt to see the sad look in Bobby's eyes whenever this happened, and sometimes I wanted to give a word of comfort, offer to speak to John on his behalf. But then I remembered I was supposed to be Madelyn Shard, and kept my distance.

Kitty seemed too busy getting ready for school starting up again to take much notice of me. They weren't going to have as many students this year, due to the cure, and they had to adjust the schedule and sleeping dorms accordingly. The few times I had seen her, her nose had been in a clipboard. I did notice she no longer wore her glasses, but preferred to wear contacts. She had pretty eyes.

Artie and Jones simply avoided me. A couple of times when I had run across Artie alone (or as alone as I ever got), he would slow and stare at me, as if trying to decided whether or not to talk to me. I could do nothing but give him a weak smile. After a while he started to smile back. But Jones kept his distance, and whenever our eyes met I saw distrust, hurt, and anger in his eyes. Every time I looked at either of them, fresh pain exploded in my chest. But I did my best not to say anything.

Peter never mentioned our little altercation in which I had shouted that I was a murderer. He didn't ask what I meant, and I never brought it up again. I could not tell if he didn't bring it up because he was disgusted with the whole idea, or because he was giving me space to pull myself together and come to him when I was ready. Well, if it was the latter he was going to have to wait a very, very long time.

The nightmares persisted. For some reason they felt more realistic now that I had seen a flying man with my own eyes. Although I was still not convinced I hadn't been hallucinating. Considering the fact that I had yet to see a pair of wings on any of the students at the School, I was inclined to believe my brain had made it all up. Although _why_ it would do such a thing, I had no idea.

Needless to say, I had not had much sleep by the time school started up again. Obviously I didn't take any classes, but I found myself wandering close to the doorways of the classrooms, listening in on the lessons. I missed Dr. Gray, Professor Xavier, and even Professor Summers. Now it was only Professor Storm and Logan. Logan wasn't much of a professor type, but he did his best with a small classroom, because Storm had asked him. Kitty was teaching a class, as was Rogue. Rogue had taken the cure, so she no longer had that ability-sucking thing. Still, she did not want to leave the School and Storm had offered her a teaching job.

Among the new students was that boy, Jimmy, from the jet. The Cure. The boy the Brotherhood had tried to murder. Just seeing him made my stomach churn with guilt. His hair had grown and covered his head with a light brown. From the back he looked annoying familiar, but it wasn't until I had the dream with the video game that I realized it was _him_. The boy whose face I never saw; the one who led me out of the violence and into a safe place. I felt a new wave of guilt added onto the pile I already had. He had saved me from the horrible nightmares of the winged man, and I had tried to kill him.

I mostly stayed out of the way during school hours. But I liked to go into the courtyard during recess and free period and watch the kids playing as though no war had ever happened. For some reason the sight of them made my heart feel less heavy. Sometimes I took a book along, just so I could pretend to be doing something other than staring at everyone. I'm sure if someone noticed a staring member of the Brotherhood it would not go over too well. For me at least. The fact that I had a large scar covering half my face didn't help either. A lot of them were disgusted by it, and the rest couldn't bring themselves to even look at it.

After a couple of weeks I began to notice a pattern hanging around the new boy Jimmy. Whenever he went up to some kids his own age to play some sort of game, they all stopped and stared at him until he moved on. This happened every single time. Finally he seemed to give up. Recess came and he moved to a bench far away from the rest of the kids. After watching him for a long moment, I got up and moved over to sit next to him. Maybe I was lonely, maybe I missed hanging out with kids, maybe his hurt expression reminded me of Artie. I'm not sure why I went over. All I know is that as soon as I sat down, my headache disappeared.

"That's interesting," I said before I could stop myself.

"What?" Jimmy asked, startled.

"My headache is gone."

He looked at me quietly for a moment. I searched his face for signs of revulsion when his blue eyes settled on my scar, but he remained expressionless. "You get headaches a lot?" he asked finally.

I nodded. "It started when I used my ability to . . . an extent I wasn't ready for. That was two years ago and I've had a pretty constant headache ever since. But sitting next to you . . . it just went away."

"Your powers don't work around me," the boy said in a tone that made me think he had said it a lot recently. "I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "No, it's nice. Peaceful." I gave him a small smile. "Is that why the kids won't let you play with them? Because you take away their abilities?"

He nodded and looked across at the basketball court wistfully. "I think it's cheating to use your abilities to win a game, but the other kids don't think the same." He shrugged. "But it's okay. I mean, I'm used to being on my own." But his voice sounded sad, and I knew he was lonely. Maybe even more than me.

"You grow up in that lab?" I asked, curious.

He had to think for a moment. "I think I was eight when they took me there," he said. "I didn't know what was going on, but they were nice enough. I got any video game I wanted." A trace of a smile flickered across his serious features. "Single player of course."

"We have a game console in the rec room," I said. "I mean, they do. . . . Why don't you ask someone to play with you?"

He didn't answer for a few minutes. He stared out across the courtyard and watched the groups of kids playing their various games, some running over water, some jumping high enough to reach the tops of the trees, some teleporting from one side of the basketball court to the other. None seemed like the video game type.

"I don't know who to ask," he admitted finally. "None of them like me very much." I expected him to sound hurt, but he stated this like a matter of fact, his face impassive. I felt my heart go out to him. Only a kid but already hiding behind a mask.

Maybe he reminded me of myself, or maybe he made me think of Peter, but whatever made me take his wrist and pull him to his feet I didn't question it. I simply gave him a smile and released him, gesturing for him to follow me.

"I'm no good at video games," I said, leading the way into the mansion. "But I'll give it a go if you promise to go easy on me."

A tiny smile curled the corner of Jimmy's lips, and I felt a sense of accomplishment for changing his expression that much.

I took him to the rec room, realizing too late that Jones and Artie would be at the TV. I stopped abruptly in the doorway, and Jimmy almost ran into me from behind. Clearing my throat, I waited for them to notice me. Unfortunately I not only drew their attention, but the attention of the other people there as well. I gave them all a weak wave before turning back to look at Jones.

"Um, could we, uh, use the TV for a bit? Jimmy wants to try out the Xbox."

As soon as I said the boy's name, a whisper ran throughout the room. When it got back to me I only heard one word "Leech." The kids shifted as far away as they could from us, even though I couldn't see any of them using any of their abilities.

Jones shut off the TV abruptly and stood, staring at me a long moment before grabbing Artie's sleeve and dragging him off the couch.

"We were hungry anyway," he said, pulling the smaller boy behind him as they hurried out of the room.

"Bye," Artie managed to get out with a short wave before disappearing around the corner.

At Jimmy's curious glance, I gave him a feeble smile. "We used to be friends," I admitted.

Thankfully Jimmy didn't ask for an explanation, only said, "I'm sorry," so sincerely that I felt my gut clench painfully. I simply nodded and made my way over to set up the Xbox.

Most of the games Jimmy had already beaten. But there were a couple had had not completed and we put one of those in. By this time most of the other students were minding their own business. The game made a lot of noise, which helped drown out any unpleasant whispers that might have been going around.

I found out a few things that afternoon. One: I stink at video games; two: Jimmy is a really patient teacher and _very_ good at video games; and three: playing those games with Jimmy was the most fun I'd had in years. And not once did a headache plague me.

When it was time for Jimmy to go back to class, I was actually sad to see him go. I had never really known exactly how lonely I was until just now. I had actually laughed, I realized. And it hadn't been forced or sarcastic. I had actually laughed because I was happy. Because I was having fun. And it had felt wonderful.

The second Jimmy walked out the door, my headache returned so strongly I cried out inadvertently, stumbling back against the couch. I didn't quite make it however, and I saw the floor rush up at me as I clutched at my head.

But I didn't quite make it to the ground. Just when I was about to hit, a large pair of arms scooped me up and deposited me on the couch, and suddenly Peter was there, frowning in concern.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gruff.

I nodded and reached into my pocket for my aspirin. Thankfully Storm had let me keep them. The pain was intense and my fingers struggled with the child safety cap. Gently Peter took it from my sweating hands and with a deft twist of his index finger and thumb, had the cap off and a tablet in my hand. I had to give him a rueful smile.

"Thanks," I muttered, downing the pill quickly. Peter wordlessly handed me the bottle, and I stuffed it in my pocket. It took a few minutes for the aspirin to take effect. Very, very long minutes. The entire time Peter watched me carefully, as though he were afraid I would die if he did not keep watch.

"I'm fine," I assured him after a moment. "Really. I guess I got used to not feeling that for so long, it was a bit much when he left."

Peter nodded slowly, still not speaking. I wondered if it was because I was afraid I would stop if he started. I closed my mouth tightly, knowing if I kept going I would babble. Moving off the couch, I walked past him toward the door. I hesitated though, and glanced back. He was standing now, but otherwise hadn't moved. He looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to say what we both knew had to be said.

But I couldn't make myself say it. So I simply nodded like an idiot and hurried away before we got into a conversation I was not ready for. Instantly I regretted it, but it was too late now. So I made my way to my room and spent the rest of the day inside reading and wishing I wasn't such a selfish coward.

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**A not-so-hostile chapter for Madi. Not much happened, but I thought we needed a little break from the wild emotions of the last few chapters. ;P And yay! Cameron Bright! Er, I mean Jimmy/Leech of course, hehe. I've been waiting a long time to write for him. XD Review and tell me what you think of the chapter!**

**Oh! And for a special treat to my adoring fans, the 100th reviewer gets to add a little something to the next chapter. I'll give whoever it is more details on what that little something is when they review. ;P ****(I can't believe I'm going to break 100 reviews! I've only done that once before, and it's really exciting!) ****Please don't hold back your review because you want to be the 100th reviewer. That's not fair to anyone, and we won't get anywhere!  
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	20. Chapter XIX

**A/N: Extra long chapter to make up for the past two shorter ones. =P I'm loving how the inspiration just keeps coming with this story! XD I really think a large part of it is because of you wonderful reviewers! Keep up the great work! **

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****Chapter XIX**

I started finding excuses to spend time with Jimmy. At first it was for selfish reasons. It had been so relieving to be without my headaches for a while, and I dreaded the moment the pain would return worse than before. Nightmares plagued my sleep, and I felt as though I was in a constant state of exhaustion.

I could tell Peter was worried about me. He was always right by my side when Jimmy had to leave and the throbbing ache returned. As much as I wanted to push him away when he helped me, I was often times too weak to resist.

Jimmy began to catch on to the distress he caused when he left me. Every time he was called away to class he would send a pained look my way, reluctant to go. I didn't want him to go either, but felt bad about my feelings, knowing they were selfish. I liked the sense of peace and freedom the ease gave me, and I was always afraid of that moment Jimmy would have to go. I realized I was using Jimmy by forcing him to spend time with me, but I couldn't bring myself to stop. Besides, I reasoned, it wasn't like he had anyone else to hang out with.

But as the days went on, I began to like Jimmy as a person, not as a cure for my headache. I found he had a dry sense of humor, able to say something quite funny with a completely deadpan face. He made me laugh, and I hadn't been around people who could make me laugh in a very, very long time.

I realized I could take the cure and be rid of my headaches for good, but then I would have no reason to stay at the School and I would miss Jimmy's company. I would be alone again and as much as tried I convinced myself that was what I wanted, a part of me yearned to be with these people.

One day Jimmy came up to me with a big grin on his face. I was even more surprised when he grabbed me around the waist in a hug. Except for that one time in the courtyard where I had grabbed his wrist, we had had minimal physical contact. When he released me I gave him a perplexed look.

"I talked to Professor Storm," he said, still grinning. "She said I could help be your bodyguard. I can do my school with you so that's not a problem, and you won't have to be alone all the time. But it's more of an excuse, you know? So I can stay with you all day and help with the headaches. They're giving me a room next to yours, and I was thinking we could put our beds to the same wall. I'm pretty sure it works through walls, if we're right next to each other. Then you won't have any nightmares."

I stared at him. It was the most he had ever spoken, and he seemed almost . . . giddy. I wondered why. Then I realized what he was giving me and shook my head firmly.

"I can't ask you to do that, Jimmy," I protested. "You should go out and make friends. You don't have to be stuck with me all the time."

His smile slipped and he observed me silently for a moment. "No one wants to be my friend, Shard. They can't stand to be near me. Not like you. I _want_ to do this. My ability is helping you. My whole life I felt like I was _taking_ from people. Now I feel like I'm giving something. I like that." He cocked his head and gave me a wry smile. "Besides, I thought you liked being with me."

I allowed a smile of my own. "I do," I said. "It's just . . . I don't know what to say. Thank you."

He held out a hand to me. "I'm going to keep you safe," he said, and my mind jolted me back to that dream I had had while I was in Magneto's camp. The dream I had while trying to discover the outcome of the Alcatraz battle. The dream I had when I concentrated on the cure.

"_I'm going to keep you safe."_

It was the exact same thing he had said in my dream, every time, before he led me out of the chaos and horror of the violent video game I had found myself trapped in.

I slowly slid my hand into his, and he gave it an encouraging squeeze. At the simple, innocent contact, new pain curled around my heart. But this time it wasn't pain so much as it was longing. I missed friends, I realized. I needed someone to lean on. I tried so hard to be strong, when really I was weak. Fragile.

Walking slightly behind Jimmy as he led me by the hand, I felt like I was made of glass. I was almost afraid if I let go of Jimmy, I would break into a million pieces. I realized I _did_ feel safe with him.

I also realized the only other time I felt like this was when I was with Peter.

00000

I slept without nightmares from then on out, with Jimmy right beside me on the other side of the wall. We both knew Morse code, which we used to talk to each other by knocking our knuckles against the wood. It took a while to understand everything, and I got a lot of giggles out of misinterpretations. But after a while we were both fluent (if you can be "fluent" in code), and could hold entire conversations.

We soon fell into a routine. Every night before he went to sleep, Jimmy would ask me how I was holding up. When I gave him a positive response, he would go on and ask questions about the school, about the students, and about me. I tried my best to steer the topic around the more personal questions to avoid them, and he seemed to sense my hesitancy. He never pushed for answers. In that way he reminded me a lot of Peter.

I no longer feared the night. I slept peacefully and never saw the winged man again. I couldn't remember the last time I had slept so soundly. I loved it.

But one night I awoke with a slight headache. Jimmy must have gotten up to go to the bathroom or something. The pain wasn't enough to keep me awake, and I started drifting again. Of course it was at that moment when my stomach decided to announce that it was hungry. I didn't eat much usually, but for some reason I was suddenly _really_ hungry.

I crept out of my room on tip-toes. For some reason I felt the need to sneak, even though I knew most, if not everyone, was in bed by now. Even the kid guarding my door had fallen asleep, though I didn't blame him since he thought I was perfectly safe in my room with my powers neutralized. Still I felt guilty, which was strange because I was just getting something to eat. There's nothing wrong with that.

But I guess I just felt as though I were some kind of thief, going down to the kitchen to swipe someone else's food. But my growling stomach would not ease, and I knew I had to get something in it soon or else I would never be able to fall back asleep. My headache was back, seeing as Jimmy was not with me, but I endured it as best I could.

It took a moment to realize I had gone the wrong way. Instead of going down to the kitchen, I had gone up a long hallway and was now standing outside of Peter's door. I blinked in surprise. How in the world did I end up here? I realized with an unwanted blush that it was probably because I had been thinking about him a lot lately, and my subconscious had led me here.

I debated with myself for a long moment. I wanted to speak with him, but I knew if I did it was very possible I could spill out the whole truth and I couldn't stand to watch the expression on his face once he knew what I had done. My hand drifted up to my collarbone, where the white gold rose used to hang. I had long accepted the fact that I would never find my necklace. It was somewhere on Alcatraz, buried beneath rubble.

My fingers rubbed slow circles in my skin. Hesitantly I reached for the door knob, telling myself I would just take a quick look. Just to ease some of the ache. But I heard a door open farther down the hall and snatched my hand back, my cheeks burning. I didn't wait to see who it was, just took off running in the direction of the kitchen.

I didn't stop running until I reached it. Then I collapsed on the barstool and rested my forehead down on the island counter. When my heart and stopped racing, I stood, steadied myself, then made my way over to the pantry to grab a cinnamon raisin bagel. Yum. Pouring myself a cup of water, I downed that first (along with a couple aspirins) before biting into the bagel raw. I didn't want to take the time to toast it. Besides, I was afraid someone would come in at any minute. I needed to keep moving.

I started toward the rec room. I was already in the doorway when I realized I had forgotten something very important: Jones didn't sleep.

I stood there, frozen in place, as I stared into the room. He must have known I was there, for his entire body tensed and the channels started flipping faster. My knees trembled as I fell into another debate with my heart. A large part of me wanted to walk into the room and try to repair the rift I had torn between us, but another part of me knew it would take more than a simple conversation to mend anything. And I didn't think I had the strength tonight.

Sighing softly I shook my head and turned away, heading back into the kitchen and then out the glass sliding doors, into the courtyard. I started for the fountain, then thought better of it and headed to the small field where the headstones for Professors Xavier and Summers and Dr. Grey had been set up. I sat cross-legged in front of Dr. Grey's headstone, tracing the name with my finger for a moment before finishing my bagel.

Despite a slight chill in the air, it was rather pleasant outside. Spreading my arms to the side, I lay down on my back, looking up at the stars. Lying there reminded me somewhat of the day the School had been attacked and we had fled into the woods. I had lain beneath the stars with Jones's warm body pressed against my side, and Peter keeping watch over the fire. I remember how angry I had been with him, because he hadn't let me go back for Artie. Poor Artie . . . he had never really told me what exactly had gone on during his captivity. I realized guiltily I had never asked, too absorbed I had been with my conflicted feelings of Bobby and Peter.

I must have dozed off, for the next thing I knew I was sitting bolt upright, breathing heavily, a light coat of sweat on my brow. I couldn't remember what had scared me so badly, but I knew it was probably a nightmare. I had to get back to my room.

Shivering, I stood and made my way back to the building, trying to ignore the cottony feeling in my mouth. I would need to brush my teeth again.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and I recognized the prickling sensation of being watched. Looking up, I saw the silhouette of someone standing at the rec room window, watching me. I recognized the outline. The massive shoulders and arms, the mussed hair sticking up in the air, the hard jawline. It was Peter.

I found I couldn't look away, and my legs took me to that window instead of the kitchen doors. I stopped directly in front of him and looked up into his eyes, shadowed by the light behind him. Without thinking, I lifted a hand and pressed it against the glass. His eyes flickered down to stare at it for a moment, his own hand twitching as though he wanted to reach out to me. He lifted it halfway, but just when my heart leaped in my chest, it fell back down to his side.

While his expression was impassive, I could see pain in his eyes. But for some reason I could tell it wasn't only because he was in pain, but because _I_ was in pain.

_He's hurting for me_, I realized, stunned. _And because of me_.

I had to get away. But before I could move, he turned away himself, walking out of the room with slow, measured steps. He was wearing only pajama bottoms, and I could see how tense the muscles in his back were. Running a hand agitatedly through my short hair, I fingered the soft strands as I gradually made my way back up to my room, frowning in thought. Now was as good a time as any to leave. I could grab John and we could be gone this very night. For once no one was watching me. I could sneak out right now. I could—

"Oof!"

I collided with someone coming around the corner and stumbled back. The kid I'd run into fell onto his backside, blinking in surprise. When he looked up at me, I felt my body tense. It was Artie. He was wearing red flannel pajamas, with pictures of spaceships all over it. His hair was mussed up, and he had crease lines from his pillow on half his face.

He looked at me, and I looked at him, and for a long, awkward moment nothing happened. We were frozen in our various positions, me with my hand up to steady myself against the wall, he propped up on his arms from behind. I almost wished Jones would show up so he could take Artie away, and the discomfort of the moment would ease at least, even though there'd be frosty stares and harsh words. But no help was forthcoming.

Finally I couldn't stand it anymore. Using the utmost caution not to betray any emotion, I held my hand out to him to help him up. I felt his warm fingers curl around mine, and I pulled back as he got to his feet. Almost without thought I dropped to my knees and brushed him off, straightening his shirt and brushing his dark hair back. Artie simply watched me with curious eyes. My fingers froze when I realized what I was doing. Quickly, I dropped my hand away from him, but he held my gaze for what seemed like eternity. Then, slowly, he lifted his hand and laid it across the scarred side of my face, studying the other side carefully. He tilted his head, his smooth brow furrowed in concentration. I noticed he had to look down slightly. He had grown. I felt my gaze soften, remembering the little boy who would curl up against me during a scary movie and would crow in triumph every time he beat me in Foosball.

Suddenly a smile cleared away the thoughtful expression and he beamed.

"You _are _Madi," he said, the happiness in his voice causing a lump to form in my throat. "I knew you weren't gone. Jones told me you were, but I knew you couldn't be. You sure look different."

A sob escaped my stiff lips, and I stood swiftly, turning away from him, pressing my hand against my lips to stifle the next cry. Artie wormed his hand into my free one, looking up at me in concern.

"Madi?"

I moaned and tore myself from his grasp, which was much harder than I thought it would be. Without a glance back, I took off down the hall. When I reached my door, I slammed it shut forgetting momentarily that it was in the middle of the night and my guard had been asleep.

I couldn't believe he had recognized me! How had that happened? It would be even harder to get away now. Practically impossible! Now not only would Jimmy and Peter be around me 24/7, but surely Artie will try to as well. I sat on my bed and dropped my head in my hands. I wished I had the courage to let my friends back in, but the truth was I was a coward. And selfish. Just like Peter had said. I didn't want to take the risk that I might hurt them. People close to me tended to get hurt. Just like my parents . . .

A small, hesitant knock sounded at my door. Frowning, I glanced over just in time to see a fat manila envelope being shoved underneath the door. The soft patter of running feet followed. I remained still for a moment, before curiosity got the better of me, and I snatched up the envelope.

My hands were shaking as I opened it. It was only paper. Paper with drawings on it made with crayon, water colors, and finger paints. As I shifted through them I saw a pattern. They were of me and Peter and Jones and Artie. We were doing different things, but we were together. Artie's messy signature was at the bottom of each picture.

When I got to the last one in the deck, I moaned softly. It was of the four of us just like the others, but this was different. We weren't playing cards, watching TV, fighting aliens, or sailing on a sea full of sharks. While the others were full of action, this one had the feel of a portrait (despite the fact that I had maroon-colored hair and Jones's glasses were almost as big as his face).

Peter and I were standing next to a tall castle, which I assumed was supposed to be the School. He had his arm around me, and I had my arm around Jones. Peter had his hand on Artie's shoulders. We were all smiling. At the bottom were scrawled the words: _My Family_. I looked at it closer, trying to see what Artie had seen. I saw myself as the mother, Peter as the father, and Jones as the brother. Artie's family.

The date on the picture was of two years ago. The day I had left the mansion. Tears spilled down my cheeks, and I gritted my teeth. My headache hadn't alleviated yet so I assumed I wasn't close enough to Jimmy for my powers to be gone. I tried to control myself, I really did. But the pain was too much for me and it exploded.

The windows of my room wobbled dangerously, but the crash that followed came from outside my door. Grimacing, I did my best to push my emotions down as far as they would go. Peering outside, I saw my guard had full awakened and was staring at me fearfully. Glancing down the hall I noticed a vase had shattered, spilling its contents everywhere. I winced.

"Sorry about that," I muttered, bringing the vase pieces to me. The guard watched me warily, hand straying to the radio on his belt. I tried to give him a reassuring smile, but I don't think it worked. I pulled the shards of glass into my room, apologized again to the guard, and shut the door.

I released the glass over my bed and stood staring down at them for a moment. I had no idea what the vase had looked like before, so I knew trying to replicate it was out of the question. As I stared at them however, an idea began to form in my mind. A sort of "I'm sorry" gift. I smiled faintly and picked up the last picture I had seen. The family one.

The next morning I set my gift carefully at the bottom of Artie's door. Knocking quickly, I darted down the hall and crouched behind a large wooden chest. My heart was beating rapidly, and I suddenly wondered if this had been a good idea. I had no idea how he would take it, and if I would regret this later.

But then Artie opened the door and picked up the wrapped gift. He weighed it in his hand for a moment, frowning, before pulling away the wrappings. I held my breath as he stared down at the small mosaic I had made of the family picture. I had replicated every detail, right down to his signature and the date. He stared at it for a long moment before holding it up to the light to see it better. Colors splayed across his face as the sun's rays filtered through the different glass tiles. But right in the center of his face, a small clear spot appeared in the shape of a heart.

He noticed the tiny transparent heart, nestled in the mosaic Madi's chest and a large grin spread across his face. Without bothering to change out of his spaceship pajamas, he took off running down the hall in the direction of the rec room. I stood slowly, biting my lip as I wondered what Jones's reaction would be. Then I decided it didn't matter what Jones thought about the mosaic. It was for Artie and Artie had got the message. He was happy, and I knew Jones wouldn't take that away.

And I realized I could never regret this simple gesture of love. As I made my way back to my room, my heart felt lighter than it had in a long time.

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**BrokenHeartAlchemist was the one to win the 100th Reveiwer Prize. The prize was she got to pick two characters and a situation and I would put it in my story. She chose Madi and Artie and the scene from the "00000" break to the end of the chapter was contrived from her idea. She ended up writing up this very detailed story all on her own! I took the basic ideas, some of her specifics, and fit it into the story with just a few tweaks here and there. She included Peter and Jones in it as well, which I thought was nice of her. XD It could have stood as a chapter all on its own, but I had to include that bit with Jimmy at the beginning. **

**So yeah, congratulations BrokenHeartAlchemist! You technically wrote most of this chapter! You should be proud of your awesome idea. The mosaic was an especially nice touch, I thought. =)  
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**So review everyone and tell us what you think! XD  
**


	21. Chapter XX

**A/N: A shorter chapter again, but I felt it needed to stop when it did. =)**

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****Chapter XX**

Jones sought me out later that afternoon. He stood there stiffly, hands clenching and unclenching. He didn't look me in the eye when he spoke.

"Artie's really happy," he said, his voice strained. "He hasn't been happy in a long time. So . . . thanks." After a slight hesitation, he turned and started off down the hall with quick, short, angry steps.

My heart twisted painfully, and I knew I couldn't let him go like this. I'd made my peace with Artie, even though I knew it would cost me, and I needed to say something to Jones as well. I couldn't keep being a selfish coward. I had no idea where this path I was starting on would take me, but I knew I wanted Jones and Artie to be happy, no matter what happened to me.

Still, it took Jimmy's sharp nudge in the ribs to get me to actually speak up. And when I did, I surprised myself by desperately yelling the last thing I expected to come out of my mouth.

"Connor!"

Jones froze in mid-step. I realized I had never, ever heard anyone use his first name. I also realized I had never asked _why_ he didn't go by his first name. Another testament to how selfish I had been.

Jones was still frozen, and I could see his thin shoulders heaving as he breathed heavily. Another nudge from Jimmy shoved me forward, and I stumbled over to the boy. Tentatively, I lifted my hand and placed it on his shoulder, turning him slowly to face me. Taking both his shoulders in my hands, I moved closer, trying to catch his gaze. He wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Connor," I said again, gently this time, watching his face carefully. He flinched and wet his lips before biting down on his bottom one. He didn't say anything for a long moment.

"You know my name," he said finally in a small voice. "I never told you."

"No," I agreed. "You didn't."

I waited for the implications of that to stick. Obviously I had found out about it before I left, and had cared enough to remember it two years later. It was the only conclusion I knew he would come to. I could feel him trembling beneath my hands, and I tightened my grip to steady him.

"I'm so sorry," I said softly, watching him closely as he blinked rapidly, his eyes wet. "I didn't mean to hurt you. Any of you. I thought I was doing the right thing."

"The right thing for _who_?" Jones asked through gritted teeth, finally raising his face to look me in the eye. His accusing gaze pierced my heart as surely as if he had taken a knife to it.

"I wanted to protect you." I risked laying my hand against his cheek, stroking it with my thumb. I felt him stiffen at the contact, so I dropped my hand to my side.

"No, Madi," he said finally, his brown eyes boring into my soul. "You wanted to protect your_self_."

"I'm sorry," I repeated softly, unable to think of anything else to say.

Jones backed up, shaking his head faintly before turning away completely and quickly making his way down the hall. I took a deep, shaking breath as I watched him go. Jimmy reached over and slipped his hand into mine.

"He'll come around," he said confidently. "I could tell he still cares about you. Don't think about what he said. He'll be back."

"I'm not so sure," I murmured. "Because he was right, Jimmy. He was right."

Jimmy had no answer for that. I pulled my hand away. "I need to be alone for a little while," I told him, staring down the hall where Jones had gone.

"But . . . your headaches," Jimmy protested.

"I'll be okay," I assured him, patting his shoulder absently. Without another look at him, I walked away, heading toward John's room. I wanted to talk to _someone_ and not feel threatened to spill my entire secret out. John was the only one who knew everything about me, even though he definitely would not have been my first choice in confidantes. He didn't understand the bond I had shared with the boys and Peter. And he definitely didn't get why I liked spending time with Jimmy.

"That's almost as bad as just taking the cure," he had said, glaring at me.

"It helps my headaches," I said.

"Yeah, well, take an aspirin." He had then slammed the door in my face. We hadn't really spoken since then.

Now I hesitated outside his door. Taking a deep breath, ignoring the pain in my head and the guard watching me warily, I knocked loudly. The door opened almost instantly. John blinked at me in surprise before frowning slightly.

"Yes?" he asked shortly.

"I just wanted to talk," I said, biting back some scathing words at his attitude.

"So talk," he said, leaning in the doorway and crossing his arms.

"Can't I come in?" I asked, glancing sidelong at the guard.

Rolling his eyes, John stepped back and held the door open wider. I stepped inside the room, and he shut the door behind me. Moving over to the bed, he sat down and looked up at me.

"So . . . shoot," he said.

"Um, how are things . . . with Bobby?" I asked, stalling.

John scowled. "Guy doesn't know when to give up. Every stinkin' day I get him telling me he's _forgiven _me and how he wants me to 'come back.' Like I want his forgiveness. Like I _want_ to be a stinkin' goody-two-shoe X-Men. I've been staying in here mostly, so I don't have to see him. So, when are we busting out of here?" He looked up at me expectantly, and I swallowed hard.

"I-I'm not entirely sure I still want to go . . ." I said in a small voice.

John stood abruptly. "You're kidding, right?" he demanded, his scowl darkening into a deadly glare. "You promised we'd get out of here if I played along with your little act. I've been waiting and waiting . . . you know how many times I could have burned down this place? But I kept my cool because _you_ said you'd get me out of here."

"I know, I know I did," I said, flushing. "But things have changed . . . I think _I'm _changing. Things aren't that bad here, John. We have a place to stay, food to eat, clothes to wear. We're not being treated badly. Where would we go if we leave? Magneto's human now; the Brotherhood is disbanded. You think anyone would give us jobs now that we've spent so much time behind enemy lines? On _both_ sides? We're better off here."

"Argh! I can't believe you're doing this to me!" John cursed at me loudly. "I should've never trusted you. Get out of here."

"But John—"

"I said, _get out_!" He grabbed my arm and pulled me to the door, shoving me outside and slamming it in my face.

Tears gathered in my eyes and threatened to spill over down my pale cheeks. That had gone worse than I thought it would've. Taking a deep breath, I turned and made my way to an unfamiliar part of the mansion.

The very top of the Mansion was flat, and I knew of a staircase that led to it. None of the kids were allowed to use the stairs, but I doubted anyone would try to stop me. Where could I go from the roof? Still, I was apprehensive about Peter following. When I looked around I couldn't see him, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. He was always nearby as far as I could tell.

That wasn't going to stop me though. I crept up the staircase and opened the trapdoor that took me onto the roof. It was a gorgeous view, I had to admit. Trees everywhere, the courtyards spread out from the back and the front. Standing near the edge of the parapet's crenelated wall, I could see some children playing on the basketball court, and some studying beneath the trees. Despite my headache, it was quite peaceful up here.

"You stole my thinking spot," an amused voice from behind me said.

I froze and shut my eyes in frustration. I hadn't known anyone else came up here. Couldn't I get at least ten minutes to myself? Was that too much to ask?

"Yeah, well, I don't see your name on it," I shot back, stubbornly looking forward and refusing to look at whoever it was. It sounded male though, and vaguely familiar. I wondered if it was someone I had known before.

"Touché," the guy said. "Still, I've never seen any of the other students come up here. What's on your mind?"

"I'm not a student," I said instead of answering his question.

"Oh?"

"Prisoner of war, technically. I was with the Brotherhood. Madelyn Shard."

I glanced slightly to the side, but he must've still been behind me because no one was there.

"Warren Worthington III," the guy said, though he didn't sound that happy about it.

"Long name. Sounds familiar."

"Warren Worthington, Jr. is my dad."

"Oh, right. Didn't he create the cure?"

"Yeah. Worthington Labs is on Alcatraz. Well, it was at least."

I grimaced. "Sorry about that."

"I don't really care."

I started in surprise. "But, your dad . . ."

"Never really understood me. He thought I wanted the cure, but he was wrong. I never wanted it. Well, maybe at first when I was a kid and afraid of him. But when I got older, I grew to like them. Still do. They give me freedom. It's exhilarating being up there. Some of the students tell me about dreams they have, and ask me if it feels the same in real life. I tell them it's better."

I had stopped breathing. I'm not sure when I knew, but I did, and now my hands had glued themselves to the merlon.

"You okay? You look pale."

_It's okay_, I told myself. _You're overreacting. What he's saying doesn't mean he's who you think he is. He could mean anything. People dream about a hundred different things. He doesn't have to mean flying. He can't mean flying. What I saw was just a hallucination. They're just dreams. Not prophecies. Just dreams._

But then a hand came down on my shoulder and turned me toward the speaker. Warren Worthington III. The first thing I saw was the wings. The large, beautiful white wings extending from his shoulder blades. He was shirtless and his toned chest was covered with a light sheen of sweat. His hair was blonde and although it was short, it looked windswept. Obviously he had just landed from somewhere. But he couldn't have lived here. Why had I never seen him before? His blue eyes looked at me in concern.

"Are you alright, Madelyn?" he asked.

"No," I croaked. "No. No. No!" It was all I could say. Reaching up, I pushed him away as hard as I could. He looked surprised.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, though I got the feeling he didn't know what for.

"No, no, no," I continued to mutter. "This can't be happening. You can't be real. You _can't_!"

"Look, maybe I should get someone. Do you want me to call someone for you?"

I stumbled back against the parapet wall, dangerously close to the crenel. "No! You can't be real! I won't let it come true!"

"What are you talking about?" Warren asked desperately. "Please, just get away from the edge, and we can figure this out."

I shook my head back and forth violently, feeling lightheaded. I knew a faint was coming: I felt the same during the battle at Alcatraz just before I hit the debris. Warren came forward to help me, but I jerked away . . . and over the parapet.

As I fell I could hear shouts from above me. It sounded like more than one. But before this could really register, my body collided with something and everything went black.

00000

I could hear voices. They were talking all around me, arguing. I could hear John's angry voice shouting at people to get away from me. I could hear Kitty's voice trying to calm him. I could hear someone crying, and another voice soothing the tears. Warren was explaining to someone what had happened. There was so much noise and confusion; I didn't want to wake up.

But I felt someone stroking my face, my hair. Someone with large, calloused fingers. My eyes flickered open, and I looked to the side to find my gaze arrested by Peter's. He was smoothing back my hair, his lips in a firm, straight line. He didn't look happy, but I could see relief in his eyes. I felt groggy, as though drugged. Without really meaning to, I found myself speaking.

"You're always right there," I murmured to Peter, my eyelids threatening to close again. "Watching over me. You know what I am . . . and after all I've done to you . . . why?"

His gaze softened, and I could see the battle behind his eyes. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, and it was so full of emotion it cracked.

"You know the answer to that." He took my hand and squeezed it three times. One. Two. Three.

Even as I drifted back into unconsciousness, I could feel the beats of my heart echoing that squeeze. One. Two. Three. And I flushed because I knew their meaning as clear as if he had spoken them aloud.

I. Love. You.

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***heart melts* Finally, right??? Ahhhhh, things are coming to a head! We've met Warren, and Peter's relenting. I foresee great changes in Madi's future, some good, some bad. But remember, they always live happily ever after. ;) Most of the time at least . . . Anyway, review and tell me what you think of the chapter! XD  
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**(P.S. If you didn't remember, Jean Grey called Jones by his full name in chapter 3. His first name was never spoken in the movie, so I took the actor's first name: Connor.)  
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	22. Chapter XXI

**A/N: I like bacon.**

**Don't know where that came from, but I wanted to say something so there you go. It's also really, really, really late here (or really, really, really early if you'd rather go that way), so my brains pretty much mush.**

**Oh, and Happy Valentine's Day! Not exactly a fluffy chapter, but it's brimming with emotions! Just read on and you'll see. ;)**

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****Chapter XXI**

Kitty was there when I woke. Peter was in a large chair that had been place beside my bed. He was slumped to the side, fast asleep. He looked exhausted. There were deep circles under his eyes, and his face was pale. Even so, as I watched him, I couldn't help but think he looked rather adorable, his face devoid of any hostile expressions, his brown hair mussed as though he had run his hand through it many times.

Kitty tackled me in a hug as soon as she saw I was awake. I received it awkwardly, stiffening automatically. She pulled back quickly.

"Sorry," she apologized, flushing slightly. "I'm just so happy to see you. You know, _you_ you. Not that Madelyn Shard. Whoever she was. What were you thinking, leading us on like that? You know how worried we were about you?"

I didn't know what to say. I hadn't expected an interrogation. Instead of answering her question, I asked the first thing on my mind.

"When did Warren come to the school?"

Kitty looked surprised at the question and it took her a moment to answer.

"Before Alcatraz."

I closed my eyes. He'd been here all this time and I had never noticed? How do you hide wings like that?

"How come I never saw him before?"

"He's been visiting his father a lot. Sometimes he stays there for a day or two. We think he might take over the family business after all, but turn it into something that will help us. . . . Why all the questions about Angel?" Kitty's eyes were puzzled as she looked down at me.

Angel? Was that his X-Men name? The irony almost made me laugh. Almost. I turned away from Kitty's probing gaze and watched Peter. She followed my gaze and smiled faintly.

"He hasn't left your side."

"I know."

She glanced sidelong at me. "I think he's in love with you."

I didn't answer, mostly because I disagreed with her. Peter might have been _in_ love with me, but that's not what was important to me at the moment. Right now what I needed was for him to _love _me. Not romantically. But unconditionally. Because I knew I had to tell him the entire story of my past. And it was only unconditional love that would endure such a tale.

I struggled to sit up. I froze with a gasp as a sharp pain shot across my side. Kitty noticed and grimaced.

"You broke a rib. Better take it easy."

"How did I break a rib? I should have broken my back." I leaned against the pillows, sweating already from the labor of just doing that. I was used to pain, but only in the form of headaches. This was an entirely different pain in an entirely different place. I pressed my hand against my side and felt bandages underneath my shirt.

"Yeah, well, you didn't hit the arch's roof. Warren caught you in mid-air. But of course you were both going so fast that the impact broke your rib."

"Wonderful," I muttered.

"Oh, and Jones wanted to see you. When you were awake. I don't know if I should bring him in here though. . . . You need rest." She brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

I hesitated before asking, "Can I go see him?"

Kitty pursed her lips. "Not with your rib like that. You wouldn't make it out of the bedroom."

I glanced around the room briefly, realizing that my head didn't hurt yet Jimmy was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Jimmy?" I asked.

"Oh, he didn't know if you'd want him here when you woke up. With Peter being in here and all, so he's in his room, making sure you're headache free while you rest up. Peter was asleep when I came in though, so I figured I'd stay in case you woke up." Kitty grinned faintly and I had to allow a small smile in return.

I felt a wave of fatigue sweep over me then, and carefully lay back down. "Why am I so tired?" I frowned, feeling myself drifting away again.

"They have you on heavy pain medication, for your rib," Kitty explained.

"Not really helping . . ." I mumbled.

"You'll be better after some rest," Kitty promised, reaching down to tuck some of my dark hair behind my ear. "By the way, your roots are showing." She snickered faintly and I swatted at her hand, but it was a weak attempt.

Before I fell back into the darkness, I vaguely saw Kitty bend down, giving me a tiny kiss on my forehead before standing. Then everything went black.

During my recovery period I could hear people come and go, sometimes watching them through half-closed eyelids, sometimes simply listening. To my surprise more people came than I expected. Peter was always there, of course, and Jimmy was there almost all the time. Kitty came and went, as did Artie. What really surprised me was that Jones visited me too. He never said anything, at least not while I was conscious. As far as I knew he came, stared down at me for a long time, before leaving.

John came too. He almost got into a fight with Peter one night. He wanted to watch me but Peter wouldn't leave. John started yelling, saying how _he_ had been there for me the past two years, _not_ Peter. How he knew everything about me. How I had hidden things from Peter that John knew intimately.

I wanted to yell at him to stop, but the medication kept me under. I struggled against it, wincing at every slightest shift in my body. At the height of the altercation, John blurted out that I had given myself to him. Rubbed the fact that John had been my first in Peter's face. I completely froze at that point. I had done my best to forget about that night, but in reality it haunted me almost every time I saw John. Or Peter.

After that lovely bit of news, Peter socked John on the jaw and the latter had to be dragged out, as unconscious as I was supposed to be. Secretly I hoped Peter had not used his metal fist to knock John one in the face, but mostly I was just glad they had stopped fighting and the annoying twit had gone.

Peter had come back to the bedside and taken my hand. He didn't say anything, but simply brought my hand to his lips, kissing it gently, as though he knew I felt guilty about my one night stand with John and was forgiving me.

I hate to admit it but tears slid down my cheeks. I wanted to explain what had happened. How I had been angry and lonely and not in my right mind. But somehow I knew Peter did not want or need an explanation. In fact, he didn't seem that surprised. I wondered if that realization was supposed to hurt as much as it did.

When they finally took me off the medication a week after my fall, Jimmy helped me learn to walk again. Apparently I kept hunching, protecting my right side where the rib had fractured. He served as my human crutch, pushing me upright each time I bent forward. Another week went by before I could walk straight without pain. But every time I twisted to the right or the left, my side would scream at me and I would have to stop and breathe. Breathing became a hassle too. Breathe too deeply, my side hurt. The short breaths I had to endure left me lightheaded sometimes.

John tried to seek me out, but I avoided him. He seemed hurt by my lack of attention, but I didn't really care at that point. He revealed a very embarrassing secret, and I wasn't about to let him go that easily. Peter never mentioned it. In fact he didn't say much of anything, just stayed by my side as usual.

It was on the third week that I sought out Jones. It was getting colder outside. We were halfway through fall. Winter was coming. I tried my best not to think about Christmas. As I made my way down the hall to the rec room, I fiddled anxiously with my jacket. I was too hot, so I took it off. Then I was cold so I put it back on. I was nervous about talking with Jones, remembering how well that went last time. Peter hovered somewhere in the background, though I couldn't see him. Jimmy stayed by my side, but when I came to the rec room, I waved him away.

"I have to do this alone," I told him softly, my eyes fixed on the tense figure in front of the TV.

"Just don't go jumping off any towers," he replied cheekily.

I swatted my jacket at his behind, but he skittered out of reach, grinning. I twisted the material in my hands as I approached the couch, taking a deep, quivering breath.

"Is that it then?" Jones asked in a careful voice that I knew meant he was trying not to sound upset. "You let Artie back in with that little present you gave him. So has the Leech taken my place? I don't remember getting anything."

My chest ached painfully and it wasn't from the rib. I carefully stepped around the couch and sat down beside him. Close enough so that I could look at him directly, but far enough away that he wouldn't feel crowded. I continued to wring the arm of my jacket for all that it was worth.

"Jimmy isn't replacing you," I said finally. It was the only thing I could think to say.

"Uh-huh."

I could tell Jones didn't believe me. I got somewhat irritated about that. "Look," I said, sharper than I meant to. "_You're_ the one who's been hostile with me. I didn't come to you sooner because I knew you'd be like this. You're angry at me, I get that. You probably hate me. But you know what? I'm fine with that. Just, please, _tell _me that you do. Then I'll stop trying to figure it out. Because, if you hate me, I can go away. I can go away and never try to speak to you again." I studied his face closely, but he just stared at the TV, unresponsive.

"But if you don't hate me," I went on softly. "I need to know that too. Because I miss you, and I would like us to be friends again. It hurts not being with you. With you and Artie. It hurts watching from a distance, knowing how much I hurt you, but not able to do anything because every time I approach, you move away. Every time I try to step forward, you step back."

Impulsively I reached forward and took his face in my hands, turning him to look at me. The glare from the sun coming through the windows behind me reflected off his glasses, hiding his eyes so I couldn't see their expression.

"Please," I begged softly. "Talk to me."

His entire body had gone rigid when I touched him, and now he pulled away from me. I let my hands fall to my jacket in my lap, fingering the zipper idly as I watched his face. He turned back to the TV, but the channel didn't change.

Finally he spoke in a small, tight voice.

"I didn't cry when you left. I never cried the entire time you were gone. And I didn't cry when you came back and you were different. I didn't let myself feel anything about it. I couldn't. I had to stay strong for Artie. He looked up to me. He needed me to be there for him. I _had _to be there for him. I had to take care of him. Since you were gone."

"I know," I said gently.

He looked over at me sharply. "No," he said flatly. "You _don't_ know." The ferocity in his voice shocked me. "You don't know what it's been like. Having to pretend everything was going to be okay. Having to _lie _and tell him that you'd be coming back soon. While you were off . . . sleeping around with John, I was here. Taking care of Artie."

I wanted to protest, to say that I hadn't spent my entire time away "sleeping around," but his words had me transfixed. I could only stare at him. Completely and utterly speechless.

"Artie was a mess after you left," Jones went on, turning his face forward once more. "Did you know that his parents divorced before he came here? Yeah, his mother up and left him and his dad. Soon after that, Artie's mutation appeared. His dad couldn't deal with having a Mutant for a son and left him here. When you came he saw us as a family, Madi. He saw you as his mother. And then you left. Just like his real mother had. He couldn't deal with that a second time. He wouldn't eat. He wouldn't play. He didn't even _talk_ for a few weeks. _I_ had to bring him back. _I_ had to be strong for him. I couldn't afford to grieve myself. I had to make sure Artie got through it. And he did." Jones took a deep, shaking breath.

"But I didn't. And seeing you here again—so . . . so _different_—I wanted to be the little kid. My Madi was back and when I first saw you, lying there in the hospital bed, I thought things would get better. That I could stop being the strong one because you could fill that mother role again." He glanced sidelong at me. "I lost my mother too, you know. She left . . . but not in the same way Artie's did. Mine died. Still, I had to grow up without a mother. I miss her, all the time. But when you were with me, it was easier. Because I could see you as the mother in Artie's little family group. In _our_ family group. But then you left. And when you came back you were still gone. And yeah, I was angry. I even tried to hate you. But I couldn't. Not really."

His body was trembling now. He didn't look like the surly, fourteen-year-old anymore. He looked like a kid, like a little kid. Vulnerable. Fragile. Like glass. And he was breaking. And all I could do was stare.

"I love you, Madi," he said, tears streaming down his cheeks as he turned to me. He was trying to hold them back, I could tell by the way he began to gasp desperately, trying to stop the overflow.

And then some part of me, some maternal instinct I guess, took control of my body. I found myself moving forward, gathering Jones into my arms and holding him close to my chest.

"We all love you," he gasped, clinging to me tightly. "And I was angry because you hurt us. And you didn't even seem to care."

I dug my fingers into his soft hair, tears of my own spilling down my face and onto my quivering chin. I rested it against the top of his head to stop the vibrations, closing my eyes as I rocked him, moaning inwardly. I had caused this, I realized. I had wounded my loved ones so deeply that I had shattered them to pieces. And now I would have to fix it. Somehow I _had_ to fix it.

I lifted his face to look at him, gently taking off his glasses so I could meet his gaze directly. I took his face in both my hands, stroking the tears away with my thumbs. This time he didn't stiffen or pull away, simply watched me through wet eyes.

"I love you," I told him, "so much." My voice trembled but I held his gaze. "And I _hated_ seeing you hurt. But you were right. I _was_ afraid. I was so afraid of being hurt, that I couldn't see that I was the only one that could fix this. I wanted to protect myself from feeling like this. I'd already experienced grief beyond measure when I was young, and I never wanted to experience it again. But in trying so hard to protect myself, I destroyed everything in my path. I realize that now. You helped me see that, Connor. You, right now, opened my eyes to everything. And I _will_ fix it. I promise."

Jones attempted a wavering smile, and I pulled him close again, ignoring the pain it caused my rib. He wrapped his arms around me, and I could feel his fingers gripping my shirt in tight fists. I didn't mind though. I leaned back against the couch cushions and nestled his head underneath mine. I rubbed his back and stroked his hair as he released two years of suppressed emotion. And I cried too.

When we had exhausted our tears, we continued to sit there. My aching heart felt lighter than before, and I knew things had changed. For better or for worse I wasn't sure yet, but I knew that whatever was coming, Jones would be with me.

I don't know when Artie came in, but suddenly he was there, cuddling up to my other side. Drained though I was, I lifted my arm and placed it around his shoulders.

"You're never going to leave us again, are you Madi?" Artie asked, looking up at me.

I pressed my lips against his forehead, and then Jones's. "No," I promised. "I'm never going to leave either of you ever again. I've learned my lesson. I'm not going to run anymore."

"Good." Peter's rumbling voice caused us all to look up. He was standing in front of us, arms at his sides, looking down at us with an impassive expression. Artie and Jones moved away slightly, as if they sensed what I was going to do before I even did it. I stood and, without any provocation, threw my arms around Peter's waist, burying my face in his broad chest.

It took him a moment to respond, but then his arms were around me, covering me in a warm embrace. I felt tiny and fragile in his massive arms, but he held me gently, as though _I_ were the one threatening to fall into a million pieces. (And to tell the truth I sure felt like I was on the verge of it.) But standing there, with him holding me, and with me inhaling his scent (a metallic sort of musky scent that was strange yet somehow comforting), I felt completely safe.

Peter's lips graced my temple, right over my scar. A shiver ran up my spine at the contact, but it wasn't unpleasant at all.

"Welcome home," he murmured, and warmth spread through my entire body like I was being bathed in hot water.

Then I realized it wasn't like being bathed in water. It was so much more than that.

I was being bathed in love.

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**Awwwww! Really, I could stop the story there. But what would be the fun in that? We still haven't had a kiss! And there are so many unanswered questions like: What is Madi going to do about her dreams? What is going to happen between her and John? (Btw, don't you want to just smack him? I do. Go ahead if you'd like. :} He deserves it.) What will Warren do if/when he finds out about Madi's dream? Will Madi's dream actually come true? And, the most important question of all, WHEN WILL MADI AND PETER KISS???**

**The answers to these questions and more are coming up, so be sure to tune in. Same bat-time, same bat-channel.**

**(Ryan's Muse-Who-Is-(As-Of-Yet)-Nameless: Gaaaaaaaah, the author gets really goofy when she stays up late. Please forgive her. *drags Ryan off to bed* In the meantime, review and tell her what you think of this chapter!)  
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	23. Chapter XXII

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait everyone! I was working on editing and self-publishing my (original) book: The Blind Traveler. If you want to check it out, go to Lulu . com and search for "The Blind Traveler." XD**

**In the meantime, I hope you like this chapter! It's longer than my last couple chapters, so I hope that makes up for the wait. ;)**

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****Chapter XXII**

It took me more than a week to work up the courage to tell Peter the story of my past. And even then it was him who took me aside to talk. Before then I'd been avoiding the subject. Ignoring his significant looks as I hung out with the younger boys. Even Kitty would join us once in a while when she was not teaching science or computer lab. It was difficult at first for the boys to adjust to Jimmy being with us. Jones complained about having to use the actual remote to watch TV, but soon got the hang of it and sped through the channels almost as fast as with his ability. Though he still griped about it, I could tell it was playful teasing now.

Artie, however, was fascinated with his human tongue. He kept touching it and wagging it around in his mouth, insisting on showing everyone how "soft and squishy" it was. It was amusing at first, but was now growing somewhat annoying. Still, I didn't have the heart to tell him to stop. Not now that he was actually talking to me.

John continued to try to seek me out, but time and again I sent him away, not wanting to speak to him after his little "announcement" in my room. The look of deep hurt in his eyes when I told him to go away bothered me, but apparently not enough for me to talk to him.

I hadn't seen Warren since we met on the roof, and frankly that was fine with me. The memory of my nightmares kept me wary of his presence, as if just being near him would be enough for me to explode into Miss Crazy-Killer-Lady and attack him.

I was perfectly happy to continue in this way: Avoiding John and Warren, spending time with the boys and kitty, and Peter of course. But never alone with Peter, because then I knew he would ask me for the truth. And I couldn't bring up the courage to go through with that.

Finally, about halfway through the second week, Peter put his hand on my shoulder just as I was finishing breakfast and said in a low voice,

"It's time."

I didn't even have to ask what he meant. I gulped down the last of my orange juice and stood slowly, excusing myself to the rest of the gang. They watched us curiously as we started to leave the room. Jimmy got halfway out of his seat, ready to follow for my headaches, but I shook my head. Confused, he frowned slightly but lowered himself back down. Peter took my hand and led me away while I simply concentrated on breathing.

He took me into an empty classroom and shut the door firmly. Then he turned to me and gestured to a desk. Gnawing on the edge of my lip, I sat as he settled down across from me. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and took my small hands into his massive ones.

"So," he said gently after a moment. His warm brown eyes focused on mine, and I could see my tense face reflected in them. "I'm here."

I nodded mutely . . . then began to talk, gripping his hands so tightly I was afraid he was going to lose all circulation in his fingers, massive or not.

"I told you I grew up in various foster homes," I started shakily. When he nodded I went on, finding myself feeling calmer under his steady gaze. "But I didn't tell you _why_ I was in the foster homes in the first place." I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"My parents . . . they died. And I—I was the one who killed them." I pressed my lips together tightly, unsure as to whether or not I could go on. The headache was in full swing, and my heart was hammering so painfully I almost gasped. But I continued through gritted teeth, even as tears gathered in the corners of my eyes and threatened to slip down my cheeks.

"I—I didn't know what I was doing. I was only five. I—I threw a temper tantrum. I don't even remember what it was about." I choked on a sob but made myself continue, focusing on Peter's shirt now, since I couldn't bring myself to look him in the eye. "Everything glass in the house exploded. My mom was in the kitchen . . . she was killed instantly, the paramedics said. My dad . . . he—he was with me. I remember seeing the mirror behind him . . . shards covering his back as he lay there . . . and there was blood. So much blood . . ."

I was trembling. My palms were sweating, and I clutched Peter tighter. "They couldn't explain what had happened. They put me into foster care. I did whatever I could to stop my abilities from working, but things would happen in my sleep. Every time I had a nightmare I would wake up with broken glass covering my floor. More than one foster parent had to get stitches in their feet because they walked in after one of those episodes."

I took a shaking breath and finally raised my gaze to focus on Peter's. Only tenderness was in his eyes, and my stomach grew butterflies that flapped wildly around as he detached one of his hands from mine in order to cup my cheek gently, stroking away the tears.

"I'm a murderer," I finished in a whisper. "And I didn't want to tell you, to tell any of you, because—because I was afraid you wouldn't like me anymore. That you would send me away. And I didn't want to stay because I was afraid I would make a mistake. That I would end up killing everyone I cared about. I tried so hard not to care about anyone, but then you . . . and Artie and Jones . . . I had to get away. I didn't—I couldn't _hurt_ like that again. I suppose it was more for me than it was for you, and I can't tell you how s—sorry I am. . . ." I trailed off in another sob, unable to continue.

Peter said nothing, only stood, pulling me up with him. He wrapped his arms around my shaking form and held me close, his warmth and stillness helping to calm my racing heart, though the butterflies didn't cease their dancing. I buried my face in his chest, wetting his taut shirt with my tears. I could feel the muscles of his back as I held him tightly, and the material of his shirt bunched in my fists as I clenched my hands, as if that would hold him closer to me.

His hand found its way under my chin, and he lifted my head so I could meet his eyes. A tiny smile twitched over his lips.

"You don't have to be afraid anymore," he told me, and then he kissed me.

He'd only kissed me once before, and I had been too shocked to respond to it, and it had been over two years ago. If there was one good thing about what happened between me and John there was the fact that I actually _knew _how to kiss someone back.

I put my knowledge to good use now, standing on my toes in order to reach him better. My entire body felt full of tingles as he pressed one hand against the small of my back and the other tangled itself in my short hair. I could feel his heart beating rapidly and everywhere his fingers and lips touched, tiny fires exploded on my skin.

He picked me up in his arms and set me on a desk, in order to reach me better. I took the opportunity to put my arms around his neck, burying my fingers in his dark hair. Secretly I hoped his skin was screaming underneath my hands like mine was to his, but it was only when I saw the darkened look in his eyes that I realized what he felt was so much deeper. A shiver ran down my spine as we locked gazes, growing still for a moment. He traced a finger down my cheek, following the line of my scar gently.

"I love you," he murmured softly, and my stomach flip-flopped almost painfully.

Before I could answer, however, the doors opened, revealing the first class of the day. Peter quickly stepped back, and I hopped off the desk, my face burning with embarrassment. To my surprise, none of the students seemed very shocked by the scene they had just walked in on. A few wore knowing smirks, and more than one girl whispered to her girlfriend behind her hand.

Professor Storm was at the front and she looked at us, eyebrows raised in admonishment, though I thought I saw amusement in her expression.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but it is time for classes to start. And if I'm not mistaken, you are needed in the Danger Room, _Professor Rasputin_."

Peter looked thoroughly chastened. Taking my hand, he nodded to Storm and headed out the door. I followed, completely bemused.

"_Professor_ Rasputin?" I repeated in disbelief.

He shrugged modestly. "I've been helping Logan out in the Danger Room. To help train new X-Men."

"Good luck with that," I said with a smirk, which soon faded as I remembered what we had just been doing. A flush colored my cheeks for a second time, and Peter looked down at me with a tiny grin.

"You feel better now?" he asked, and I could've sworn there was a chuckle in his voice.

Even so, I couldn't keep from smiling. "Yes, actually. It feels good to get that off my chest. Especially since you didn't freak out like I thought you might."

Peter shook his head slowly. "I don't freak out very often."

"I've noticed." I blushed again and Peter really did chuckle.

"I'll see you at lunch," he said, brushing my cheek with his fingers briefly. "And I think you still have something to tell me."

I blinked blankly at him for a moment and his smile faded. He squeezed my hand three times. One. Two. Three.

Understanding dawned on me, but even while I was still processing the fact that he wanted me to tell him that I loved him, Logan appeared at the end of the hallway and beckoned Peter to him, calling him "Tin Man" for some reason. Planting a small kiss on the top of my head, Peter left, leaving me standing there and feeling the words he wanted me to say stuck in my throat. I swallowed hard, unsure of what to do.

I wasn't completely sure that I _did_ love Peter. At least, not in the way that he seemed to love me. Did I need him? Yes. But _loving_ required so much . . . commitment that I wasn't sure I was ready for. It was one thing to tell little boys who loved you as a mother and a friend that you will stay with them. It was a completely different matter when you say the same thing to someone who _loves_ you. Already my paranoia was kicking in and "What ifs?" filled my brain.

What if I did go through with this? What if Peter and I became a couple and I accidentally hurt him? It didn't seem likely, considering his ability, but I knew I could hurt people in more ways than one. With Peter's steady presence gone from my side, my old doubts and fears began to resurface. I tried to remember his words, that I didn't need to be afraid anymore, but I was so _used_ to being afraid it came almost naturally.

With a sigh, I headed down the hall to find Jimmy. My headache was getting worse. Funny, it had disappeared almost completely when Peter kissed me. Remembering the moment made me smile in what I was sure was a goofy manner. The smile disappeared though when I arrived at my room and found John and Bobby standing outside my door.

It was still strange to see Bobby and not feel those old feelings of desire I once had for him. But it was nice at the same time. No more awkwardness. Unfortunately I still couldn't look at John without my cheeks burning with indignation and shame for what he'd said to Peter.

"Excuse me," I said coldly, pushing by John to Jimmy's door. I raised my hand to knock, but John stepped forward and took my wrist, preventing me from doing so.

"I need to talk to you," he said in a low voice, glancing over his shoulder and giving Bobby an "eff off" look.

"No, I really think you _don't_," I hissed, giving Bobby a slight nod to tell him he could take his prisoner and go.

Bobby stepped forward, but John whirled on him. "Give me five minutes, alright? Can you handle that Iceman? Or do we need to be attached at the hip every freaking second? Don't you have something better to do anyway? Like making out with your traitor girlfriend?"

Bobby's cheeks flushed, but he stayed where he was until I sighed and waved him off.

"It's okay, Bobby," I said. "I'll talk to him."

He nodded. "I'll be right around the corner," he said, not looking at John.

John held himself stiffly as Bobby walked past and didn't relax even when Bobby turned down the next hallway. I crossed my arms over my chest tightly and tried not to think of how much I wanted to punch him.

"Talk," I said flatly.

"I want to get out of this place," John said, cutting straight to the chase. "You and me. Gone. You promised, and you know you did. I played along with your little game—which worked wonderfully, by the way—" (the sarcasm in his voice was incredible) "and now I want to get out of here."

"Well, tough luck," I said. "Because I've decided I don't want to go. I'm staying here. Good luck trying to leave by yourself too. I know you, John Allerdyce, and I know Bobby. And I know he's never going to let you get away with busting out of here. Not on his watch."

John's hands tightened into fists, but miraculously he held his temper. Though when he spoke, his tone was dark with anger.

"You promised," he grounded out between clenched teeth. "But I guess promises don't matter to someone like you. Once a traitor, always a traitor, eh Shard?"

Now it was my turn to clench my hands. I drew myself up to my full height (which was still much too short compared to John), and looked him in the eye. "I'm not going anywhere with you, John Allerdyce," I spat. "I heard what you said to Peter in my room while I was under medication, and I wouldn't walk down the _hall_ with you, you sick masochist."

John surprised me by actually backing up a step, shock written all over his face before it was replaced by his previous anger. "Everything I said was true," he said heatedly. "I know you better than he does. I know you better than anyone does!" Suddenly he changed his tactics. Reaching out, he grabbed my arms and pushed me against the wall, looking down earnestly into my face.

"We'd be so great together, Madi," he said with determination. "We'd make a great team, I know we would. We know each other so well . . . we'd be able to do anything! We could be more powerful than even Magneto was!"

"Get off me," I insisted, wiggling out from under his hands. I stepped quickly to the side. "There's no '_we_,' John," I told him flatly. "There never _was_ a 'we.'"

He blinked at me. "But . . . at your apartment . . ."

"Yes, and I've regretted that day ever since," I said, a little harsher than I meant to. The hurt on his face was surprising, and I had to look away. He backed up several steps, his hands hanging limply at his sides. Then he gripped his hair in frustration and scowled at me.

"You're ruining everything!" he hissed. "And for what? For these goody-goody X-Men? What can they give you that I can't? You think you'll be satisfied with that stick-in-the-mud Colossus? He's like a tin statue! He doesn't know the _meaning_ of the word passion. I'm better than him, Madi. We're both better than all of them!" He stepped forward again and took my shoulders. I could only stare at him in anger, my face flushed. I wanted to deny his words, but that would reveal the Incident from earlier, and I would _not_ give John that arsenal to use against me.

"Come with me," John pleaded, practically begging now. "You mean a lot to me, Shard. More than anyone ever has. I—I think I even might be in love with you."

That froze me instantly. I blinked rapidly, wondering if he was serious. But he must have been serious because the next thing I knew, he was kissing me fiercely. I barely had time to register what was happening before my body reacted . . . but not in the same way it had before.

This time I pushed my hands against his chest and slapped him hard across the face. This time we both froze. When he turned his head back around to look at me, the hurt in his eyes burned me almost as much as the stinging in my palm. I stared at my hand then up into his pale face.

"Fine," he spat angrily. "If that's the way you want it, you can _have_ your little good-two-shoe X-Men. You can burn with them all for all I care!"

And before I could stop him, he ran off down the hall, disappearing around the opposite corner from where Bobby said he would be. I slid down the wall to sit on the floor, burying my face in my arms as I pulled my knees up to my chest and rested my forearms on them. It was only then that I realized I hadn't felt my headache the entire time I was speaking to John. The door beside me opened slightly, and I saw Jimmy's feet as he exited his room.

He didn't say a word, only sat beside me, leaning comfortingly against my side. It was then that the tears came and I wept. Not only for myself, but for the broken young man who had just fled from me, and the fact that I had wounded someone yet again.

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**Oooh, this doesn't bode well, does it? On the plus side, we finally have a Madi/Peter kiss! YAY!!! Review and tell me what you think of this chapter! Can't wait to hear from you. XD**


	24. Chapter XXIII

**A/N: Sorry, no Madi/Peter in this chapter. But I thought it was necessary to get some backstory and relationship issues worked out. (Just so everyone remembers, this story is movieverse, so it's probably not canon to any of the comic books . . . in fact, if it was at all canon to the comic books, I'd die of shock. Who gets coincidences like THAT???)**

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**Chapter XXIII**

"_So . . . you killed your parents, huh?"_

_John stood in the doorway of my apartment. Surprisingly, despite his tone, no smirk was on his face like usual. I hastily brushed the water from my cheeks and scowled, wishing he had followed Magneto out once the session had ended. But he lingered there, arms crossed, casually leaning against the doorframe. I kept waiting for some sort of sarcastic comment to follow, but he just looked at me._

"_Go away, Pyro," I said, purposefully using his codename in an attempt to show him I wasn't interested in being friends today._

_But instead of leaving, he stepped further into the room, his arms falling to rest at his sides._

"_Did they hit you?" he asked, perfectly serious._

"_No," I said, frowning deeper. "I was just a kid. I lost my temper."_

_He gave me a significant look that I had to turn away from to ignore._

"_But that doesn't matter," I muttered. "I shouldn't have done it. It was murder."_

"_It was an accident," John insisted, shaking his head._

_I felt the bed bounce as he sat beside me. I stiffened, expecting him to try to "comfort" me or something like that. But he didn't touch me. I glanced sidelong at him and saw him leaning forward, elbows on his knees, his hands hanging limply between them. He stared down at them with a thoughtful frown._

"_Murder . . . There's a murderer in this room, Madi. And it ain't you."_

_I didn't try to correct his grammar, only straightened and faced him fully, drawing one leg up beneath me._

"_What do you mean?" I asked warily._

_He looked at me surreptitiously. "My parents hated me, you know? And I figured, 'what the heck? I'll hate them back.' Well, it wasn't long after my mutation manifested that my dad decided to start using me as his human punching bag. I think he justified it by convincing himself that I wasn't really his kid. I mean, neither of _them_ had any mutations, so I must be a mistake, you know?" He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, reaching up to run both hands through his hair. Falling back on the bed, he stared up at the ceiling as I looked down at him._

"_One night when I was twelve, he just started waling on me and I—I snapped. The fireplace exploded, flames erupted everywhere: on the couch, on the TV . . . on my dad. And he's screaming and trying to get the flames out and stuff, and my mom comes in, screaming too and I just get out of there. When I was outside I saw that they were getting the fire out and I was just so mad that they would get away with everything that I . . . I made the flames bigger . . . spread them faster. And then I ran. I didn't look back._

"_The next day I find out through the papers that my house had burned down. My parents were dead and they had no idea where I was. They eventually figured I had died too but . . . Professor Xavier found me while I was in New York. He convinced me to join his little team of X-Men. At the time I figured it was a great idea: kids just like me to hang out with. But then I found out they weren't just like me. I had murdered my parents, Madi. And _none_ of these good-two-shoe kids knew what that was like. Bobby and I . . . I don't even remember how we got to be friends, but I guess whatever we had in common didn't last. Cuz now I'm here and he's there and good riddance."_

_I stared down at him, shocked by his words and the off-handed way he was saying them. Like they didn't matter. I reached over and laid my hand against his cheek._

"_John . . ." I started but he cut me off before I could finish. Turning his face toward me, his met my gaze flatly, his eyes cold. I slowly drew my hand away, clenching it in my lap._

"_I killed them, Madi. I let them burn. So don't you go talking about murder like you know what it's about. You don't. You were five. You lost control. Me? I wanted them dead. I wanted them to burn. I'm _glad_ they burned. And I would do the same thing if I had to do it over again._

"_They deserved the burn." The hate in his voice was overwhelming._

_The word echoed throughout my mind._

_Burn. Burn. Burn. _

Something was burning. It too me a moment to register that the smell was not a part of my memory but real. I sat up in bed, sniffing experimentally, wondering what exactly I smelled. Before I could deduce anything, Kitty phased through my wall, causing me to start in surprise.

"Madi, come quick!" she gasped, and I felt a strange sense of déjà vu. I hastily pushed back my covers and stood in my pajama bottoms and over-large sweat-shirt, hesitating as she wasn't immediately grabbing me and whisking me off to a safe place.

"What's going on?" I asked, and I noticed the burning smell had grown stronger.

"John's on the roof," Kitty said, breathing heavily from an obvious hard run. Her face and neck gleamed with sweat. "He's threatening to burn down the school." She took a deep gulp of air. "He says that we have ten minutes to get everyone out or we go up with it. He's already set fire to the courtyards. We don't know how he got a hold of fire, but you've got to come and convince him to stop!"

"Why me?" I asked even as I was throwing on my shoes. I wasn't going to get stuck outside bare foot again. My headache had returned, I found, and I hoped Jimmy was okay.

"Peter says he might listen to you. Bobby agrees. He's up there right now doing his best to douse the flames, but they just keep coming."

"Why doesn't Bobby just stop him like he did on Alcatraz?" I asked, trying not to think too deeply about Peter suggesting I go talk to John, especially considering what he knew about us.

"John's barricaded himself at the very top of the highest parapet on the roof. Bobby can't get through."

"Why not Peter then?" I asked, not entirely knowing why I was stalling like this. "He could break through the door. And can't Storm fly up and knock him out with a lightning bolt or something?"

Kitty shook her head quickly. "We're all busy trying to get everyone out of the building. Storm has rain falling, but still . . . it's not enough. John's really angry, Madi. I've never seen him like this before. And the fire . . . it's incredible. Please, you have to try to speak with him. I can take you there, but you're going to have to go up yourself. I don't think he'd hesitate to attack me."

The smell of smoke was growing stronger. Suddenly I realized that it didn't matter that I didn't want to talk to John. I had to do this or else people could get hurt. I nodded in resignation. "Take me to him then," I said, wondering if I'd be able to see Peter before I went.

Kitty took my hand and phased me through several walls and onto the elevator. We took it to the highest floor and then ran up the stairs that led to the roof. Once we got there, I stared at the short tower that sat near one end. The black door looked ominous. All around the mansion I could see orange light reflecting from the fire in the trees. Before I was ready, Kitty took my hand and phased us through the door and the stone that was piled up behind it. Then she gave my hand a squeeze and let go.

"Good luck," she whispered before disappearing back into the door. I took a deep breath and climbed the narrow steps that would lead me to the pyromaniac above.

He was standing at the edge of the parapet, arms outstretched as he willed the flames to rise higher and higher against the combined effects of Bobby's ice and Storm's rain. I could see Bobby in the courtyard, dousing flames as they erupted as fast as he could. Storm was leading a group of children away from the School doors and I tried but couldn't see Artie, Jones, or Jimmy among them.

I shielded my eyes with one hand against the deluge, turning away from the awesome sight of the orange, yellow, and white flames and focused on John. His hair was plastered to his head, getting into his eyes but he didn't push it back, so concentrated was he on overpowering Bobby's ice. He was wearing the clothes I had last seen him in, and I wondered if he had gotten any sleep at all. His black shirt clung to his torso like a second skin, and his jeans were so soaked they sagged down his hips, exposing a line of skin and the tops of his boxers. He was barefoot for some strange reason, but I didn't dwell on that. Nor did I dwell on the fact that his torso was made up of very exposed lean muscle, and the way he pursed his lips in concentration made the entire ensemble extremely hot. I found myself suddenly very glad my sweatshirt was a dark color and not see-through in this rain.

"John!" I shouted to be heard over the crackling flames, the roaring wind, and the pounding rain. "What are you _doing_?"

He whipped around so quickly he almost slipped off the parapet. Without thinking I rushed forward and grabbed him, pulling him toward me and away from the edge. For a moment we were flush against each other and the heat coursing through his skin astounded me and made me blush involuntarily. It was a stupid time to blush, seriously! This was a life and death situation here! I released him quickly and took a step back, frowning up at him. He looked surprised to see me but the look quickly changed to one of anger.

"What are you doing here, Shard? Shouldn't you be off making sure your _boyfriend_ is alright?" He spat out the word as though it tasted bad, the flames around the mansion raged on, even without his attention. In fact they seemed to grow higher as he clenched his fists and scowled down at me.

I held up my hands to show I was unarmed, although technically at any moment I could shatter a window and send the shards up here to my defense, but I wasn't going to do that if I could help it. Seeing John so near the breaking point was frightening. I had never seen him like this and I'd been his best friend for almost three years.

That was a sobering thought, and I realized just how much I must have hurt him with my actions the other day. I was his one and only friend. So what if he thought he was in love with me? So what if he made a stupid comment to Peter about us? I was all he had in this place, and I had broken his trust.

"John, I'm here for _you_," I said as calmly as I could. "Please . . . please don't do this."

"Why are you here?" he asked, though his scowl softened slightly. "You made it perfectly clear yesterday that you don't care about me anymore. I mean, I pour my heart out to you, and you threw it in the dirt. And I get it, I mean, Peter must be just peachy, huh? So awesome and wonderful that he makes you forget everything we had together? Well, I hope you're happy together." He clenched his jaw and ground out those last words.

I was shaking my head before he even finished. "That's not true," I told him as sincerely as I could. "I _do_ care about you, John. I mean, I may not be in love with you . . . but you were right when you said you were there for me when Peter wasn't. I know that. I—I really appreciate you."

He snorted. "Appreciate," he repeated under his breath. I winced, knowing that wasn't the right word I was looking for.

"More than appreciate," I quickly amended. "I—I love you, John. Really. Just . . . not in the way that you want me to. And for that I'm really sorry. And if you're mad at me, please take it out on me. Don't take it out on the School. They've done nothing to you!"

"Nothing?!" John looked incredulous and angrier than ever. "They held me back! They refused to let me use my full potential and they—"

"Are you even listening to me?!" I screamed at him, grabbing the front of his shirt in my fists. The gesture caught him off guard, and a couple small fires sputtered out along edge of the roof below us where they had began to lick the sides.

"You were right, okay? We could've made a good team. Maybe, if we worked at it. But John, we've both got too much anger . . . too much hurt to be a couple. But I don't want to lose you. The _real_ you. The you that comforted me when my plan was falling on my head . . . the you that tried to convince me that what happened to my parents was an accident. The you that didn't go away when I told him to, but instead stayed with me through those awful training sessions with Magneto. _That_ John Allerdyce was my friend, and I _love_ him. I _need_ him."

I was clinging to him in desperation now, pressing my forehead against his chest. His body was still stiff in shock, but a warm hand came up and rested on my back lightly, almost as though he were afraid to touch me.

"You . . . need me?" he asked, and the vulnerability in his voice was a welcome sound compared to the defensive, angry, and obnoxious John that was his protective shell. Tilting my head back to look up at him, I could see in his eyes the little boy that thought he was a mistake until Professor Xavier taught him otherwise. I only wished that Magneto had never laid his magnetic hands on John. If only the kid had let out his emotions sooner . . . he wouldn't have had all this rage bottled up so many years after the incident with his parents.

"Yes, John," I answered softly, even as some more flames died out with the help of Bobby's ice. "You're one of my best friends, and the only friend who accepted me first . . . even after you knew about my parents. If you burn down this School . . . you'll be forever an enemy of the X-Men. And consequently me as well. I—I can't let that happen, John. I don't want to be your enemy. I want to keep being your friend . . . but I can't do that until you get rid of this anger and fear."

He snorted, but I could tell his mask was slipping. He could tell too and that was probably why he stepped away from me, shaking his head. "Fear? I'm not afraid of anything," he said with a confidence I knew he wasn't feeling.

"Yes, you are," I shot back quickly, not about to let him go when I was so close to getting through to him. "You're afraid of what you might feel if you let Bobby take you back to being _his_ best friend. You're afraid of what others reactions will be if you stay here. And you're afraid of being powerless. That's your biggest fear. You _can't_ be powerless, because when you're powerless . . . you get hurt. Like with your parents. And you don't want to be hurt again, do you John?" I looked up into his eyes searchingly, having no real idea of where all these words were coming from, but somehow feeling that they were the right ones.

A muscle twitched in John's jaw, but I could see his walls crumbling down in the look of pain in his eyes. Suddenly the fires began to die out, and John sagged against the parapet wall, pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes. He slid down the wall to sit on the ground, his shoulders beginning to shake. Slowly, I knelt beside him, cautiously wrapping my arms around him. At first I thought he would push me away, but he remained where he was, trembling.

"You don't have to be all-powerful, John," I said softly, gently stroking his soaking head. "I won't let you get hurt. And neither will Bobby. We're here for you, John. You don't have to press on alone anymore. I know you'll become great and powerful, someday. And I'd like it to be with the X-Men." He was shaking his head, but I continued to hold him as heaving sobs escaped him. "I _know_ you have the propensity for good. I've seen it. Sure, the times were few and far between, but it's there."

And suddenly Bobby and Kitty were standing before me. I looked up at Kitty as Bobby knelt in front of his friend, a look of intense compassion on his handsome face.

"The fires are all out," Kitty told me softly. She was covered in soot. Bobby didn't look much better. "Storm is assessing the damage . . . Peter, Logan, and Rogue have the kids in the forest . . . waiting until its safe."

The rain began to subside slowly until the clouds moved away and the sun began to shine. I turned back to John and saw Bobby had moved to his other side, placing a hand on his friend's head.

"Hey," he said, his voice slightly hoarse. "Forgive and forget, huh?"

John looked up then, frowning slightly at his former friend. "That easy, huh?" he asked mockingly, but his tone lacked its usual biting edge.

Bobby gave him a lopsided smile. "No," he admitted. "But we're willing to make the effort . . . if you are."

I tightened my grip. John sighed and closed his eyes, leaning slightly against me now, his head on my shoulder. "I still think ya'll are a bunch of goody-two-shoes," he said finally, his voice back to its usual snide cadence. However without it's usual hate-filled bitterness. "And I have no intention of joining the X-Men . . . but I won't burn down anything. For now."

I had to grin slightly, then surprised myself by bending down and pressing my lips against his forehead. His eyes snapped open and for a moment we stared at each other. He lifted a hand and brushed it against my cheek lightly. I grabbed it in my free hand and held it tightly.

"Friends?" I asked hesitantly.

He swallowed, and I could see the desire in his eyes, but he nodded slowly.

"For now," he repeated with a weak, sly smile. Without any help or prompting, he got to his feet. I followed, glad to see some of his old, obnoxious self back. Even as he smirked at me though, I could see a new fragility in his eyes. There was a question in them, and I hastened to reassure him,

"Don't worry, none of use will tell anyone that you cried."

He snorted again. "I didn't cry," he denied.

I pulled my sweatshirt out and pointed out the wetness. "And what's this then? Rainwater?"

John surprised me by actually chuckling. Bobby grinned and Kitty laughed aloud.

"Let's get back to the others," Kitty said. "We'll say we manhandled you to get you down if you'd like."

John turned his smirk onto her. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, Pryde?" he asked her, eyebrows raised.

To my surprise, Kitty actually blushed. Now it was my turn to laugh.

"Come on," I said. "We'll talk with Storm later. For right now we've got to get everyone back into the Mansion and out of their wet clothes."

As I turned toward the stairs, I heard John asking Kitty, "You want to help me with mine, Pryde?"

I shook my head and glanced back to see Kitty's eyes widen considerably. Abruptly she vanished into the floor. I raised an eyebrow at John. "Already, John? Really?"

He shrugged. "Hey, it's me." But there was a new look in his eyes, and I knew he hadn't moved on at all. It was another cover. Well, this one was virtually harmless, so I left it alone. I would have to have a talk with him later on though, when we weren't all wet and he wasn't looking so desirable.

I was shaking my head at his words when I was suddenly hit with a paralyzing headache, much, much worse than the dull ache I'd been experiencing so far. I gasped and clutched at my head, stumbling down a couple steps and almost crashing into the wall. Instantly I felt John's arms around me.

"Madi? Are you okay?" he asked, worry actually evident in his voice.

"Jimmy," I gasped out when I could catch a breath. "Get—"

Another round of slicing pain cut me off. Images flashed across my vision in quick succession.

_A long dark hallway._

_Warren, his wings bloody and torn._

_The ground covered in water and glass._

_Jimmy's face, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he screamed at the top of his lungs._

"_NOOOOOOOO!!!!"_

A scream ripped through my throat, and I sagged against John, slipping through his arm and hitting the steps hard. Instantly, everything went black.

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**Cliffhanger!!! I find I get more reviews this way. ;) Sooooooooo tell me what you think of the chapter! I, personally, kinda have a grudging like for John, despite his jerkiness, so I did my best to show a different side of him in this chapter. **

**I actually got my idea for John's backstory from that small scene in the second movie where he looks at the happy family picture of the Drake's on the wall of Bobby's house and he gets this kind of bitter/jealous look on his face. Made me wonder what his family life was like and how it probably wasn't good. It takes a lot to get the point where you're willing to kill your Professor, who took you in and cared for you for who knows how long, and your best friend (former or not). So if his backstory seems a little extreme, that's why. **

**But what's up with that ending, huh??? I don't have any idea where it came from; it took me by surprise (though my Muse is snickering . . .). So yeah, review and tell me what you think of the chapter! I promise more Madi/Peter in upcoming chapters. ;P**


	25. Chapter XXIV

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait everyone! Lack of inspiration + work = blaaaaaaaaaaaaah.**

**I've got a bit of fun news for everyone. I got the idea to make a sort of poster for this story, kind of like a movie poster/book cover type thing. But then I got to thinking: why not let some of my readers give it a go? I don't know how many of you out there enjoy drawing/sketching/photomanipulation/etc. but I thought this might be a fun idea for any readers who want to try it out in a contest. I'm BeautyLikeNight over at deviantART, but if you don't have an account there, you can send me your creation via the FanFiction messaging system.**

**The deadline for this contest will be May 31st, which gives ya'll a little over a month. The winner of this contest will get to help out with whatever chapter I'm working on at the time, pretty much like BrokenHeartAlchmist was able to help with that one chapter I posted a little while ago.**

**Again, no one has to do this if you don't want to, but I just thought it'd be a fun little idea. If anyone has any questions, feel free to message me. And I'll be posting the winning poster/cover (along with second place, third place, and honorable mention if there are enough entries) on my profile so everyone can see them. =)**

**Now that that's covered, on with the chapter!  
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****Chapter XXIV**

I awoke without a headache. I hadn't been expecting that. Nor had I expected to wake up in bed, but that's where I was when I opened my eyes. Jimmy was sitting on a chair next to the bed, as close as he could get without actually sitting on top of me. As soon as he caught my gaze, he leaped to his feet, calling for Peter, Kitty, John, anyone. I winced at his loud voice and sat up with a grimace, rubbing my forehead.

"Jimmy, quiet down, you're giving me a headache," I told him. He immediately turned to me, his expression full of worry.

"Are you alright? You passed out on the way down from the roof. They said you screamed and everything. It's my fault. I should've been there with you to stop the vision. I'm so, so, so, so, so sorry!" He looked about ready to cry so I quickly reached out and touched his shoulder.

"Jimmy, it's alright," I told him. "I wouldn't have let you gone anyway. John was unpredictable." That reminded me of what had just happened, and I sat up straighter. "What happened with the school? Is everyone okay? Nobody was hurt, were they?"

Jimmy shook his head. "Other than you know one is hurt. The fires are all out and Professor Storm got everyone back inside and in their rooms. Some of the little kids had to be comforted, but they're all asleep now."

Before I could ask anything else, my door burst open and Peter, Jones, Kitty, Artie, and John stumbled into the room in a large group. They all began talking at once, asking me how I was, what had happened, what I had seen, etc. Only Peter didn't say anything, simply took the seat Jimmy had abandoned and took my hand, watching me with a worried expression. It was rather cute. But the noise was getting to me, and I rubbed my forehead wearily. Recognizing my signs of stress, John quickly shushed everyone before turning to me with a frown.

"So what's up, Shard? What was that all about?"

"I-I had a vision," I said. "It's weird. I've only had one once before that time I almost drowned. I usually dream these things, but today it came to me when I was wide awake. That's never happened before."

"Probably because I've been with you," Jimmy said, then his eyes widened. "I didn't make things _worse_ did I?" He looked horrified.

"I'm sure you didn't!" Kitty exclaimed as I quickly shook my head and gave him a heart, "No!"

Kitty walked around and put an arm around Jimmy's shoulders, standing half a head shorter than him now. "You've been doing a wonderful job taking care of Madi," she told him encouragingly.

"You're one of the best things that has ever happened to me," I agreed with a nod.

John rolled his eyes. "And _that's_ not a cheesy statement at _all_."

I shot him a look, wanting to reach over and smack him but being too far away. Kitty caught my look however and walked over to smack him for me.

"I thought it was sweet," she said.

"Is Madi going to die?" Artie's soft question caused the entire room to go silent. He watched me with wet eyes and I wished I could reassured him and tell him everything was going to be okay . . . but after what had happened tonight I wasn't entirely sure.

I patted the spot on the bed next to me and he came over, climbing up next to me. I put my arm around him and rested his head against my shoulder.

"I don't know what's going on with me," I told him quietly, my gaze fixed on Peter, my hand still caught in his reassuring grasp. I gave his hand a tight squeeze and he tightened his grip. "But I promise you that I'm going to fight this with every inch of me. I'm _not_ going to die."

While Artie's anxiety washed away from his face, my eyes were still worried as I looked into Peter's. Something definitely was wrong with me. The constant headaches and dreams and now visions were not supposed to happen. They felt wrong in so many different ways. But there was nothing I could do to stop it unless . . .

I stole a surreptitious glance in Jimmy's direction. He was listening to something Kitty, John, and Jones were discussion. His hair had grown back and was lengthening to the point where he had to toss his head to get his bangs out of his eyes. I smiled slightly. No, I couldn't ask him to subject himself to tests again just so I could take the cure. The government might have some left over, but I doubted they would want to waste them on me. They were probably saving them for big terrorist Mutants like Magneto had been.

I wished Professor Xavier were still alive. I was sure he could've helped me with all this. Used some sort of mental block on me to keep out the visions and dreams and the headaches. But he was gone and I was on my own.

Well—I looked over at Peter again—not completely on my own. But I was afraid a wonderful boyfriend wasn't going to be enough. Something bad was going to happen. Something I was involved in. And there didn't look like there was anything I could do to stop it short of leaving again, and I'd promised Jones, Artie, and Peter that I would never run away again.

"What do you think?" Kitty asked me, and I realized she had been talking to me. I blinked a couple times in confusion and then flushed, my cheeks growing hot.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" I asked, stroking Artie's hair gently.

"I said that maybe we should try and find a telepath who can help you control your visions and dreams," Kitty repeated. "I mean, there's got to be another powerful telepath out there who can help."

"Maybe Logan knows some," Jones said solemnly. "He's lived longer than anyone here; he's got to have met some telepaths."

I sighed and rubbed my forehead. "Do we really want to bother Professor Logan with this?" I asked warily, unsure of whether or not the laconic man would even want to help me. It's not as if I knew him that well.

"Madi, you're important to us," Artie said, looking up at me. "You've got to let us help you."

"He's right," Peter said, speaking for the first time since they'd entered the room. I turned my head to look at him and he gave my hand a small squeeze. "We're going to do whatever we can to make you well, Madi. And don't even try to stop us."

I had to allow a small smile. "Thanks guys," I said sincerely. "I really appreciate all this."

"Yeah, well, we love you, Madi," Jones said, blushing faintly.

I had to smile as I looked at all their faces, seeing the confirmation of his words in their eyes. Jimmy and Artie grinned at me, their emotions so frank I could see the brotherly love they had for me in their eyes. Kitty's eyes shone brightly, telling me I was her best friend and like a sister to her. Jones's eyes were somewhat different than Jimmy and Artie's, which surprised me. The love in them was brotherly, but the way his cheeks flushed slightly when I looked at him worried me. I told myself it was nothing and moved on. John wouldn't meet my gaze and I was somewhat glad. I knew what kind of love I would see in them and it would hurt both of us to acknowledge it again.

Finally I turned to look at Peter and the obvious compassion, adoration, and love in his eyes melted me straight into the pillows. I felt my face grow hot as I held his gaze. I was vaguely aware of the others leaving as he leaned forward, brushing his lips over my temple, my eye, my nose, before finally resting on my mouth. Even though my head was aching without Jimmy by my side, I was able to forget about it as I kissed him back.

He rested a hand on my head, stroking my hair back as our kiss grew more passionate. I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my fingers in his hair as I pulled him closer. My boldness surprised me, but I supposed the test run I'd had with John helped somewhat. It made me feel guilty to be thinking like that though, so I banished any thought of John and concentrated on the bliss of kissing Peter.

To my disappointment he pulled away before I was ready. I whimpered slightly and reached up for more, but he shook his head with a smile and pushed me back against the pillow.

"You need rest," he told me firmly, his eyes amused.

I knew he was right but that didn't stop me from pouting. "I don't want to rest," I whined.

"I've noticed," Peter said, laughing as he detangled my hands from the front of his shirt. He gave them a gentle squeeze before laying them on my stomach.

"I'll send Jimmy to bed so you won't have anymore nightmares," he said, stroking my hair.

"Can't you stay?" I asked, my eyelids already drooping despite the stressful night. I could see the sun beginning to come up outside of my window. Dawn. Had everything happened in just one night?

Peter smiled, looking as though he wanted to, but shook his head. "I have to help Logan in the Danger Room again. Maybe I'll get a chance to ask him about this telepath thing."

"Mmmm," I mumbled, falling into an exhausted stupor. I vaguely remember him bending over to give me one last kiss before he left and I fell into oblivion.

000000

The next couple of days Jimmy stuck by my side like glue or peanut butter. The only time I got time to myself was when I went to the bathroom, and even then he waited just outside the door, much to the annoyance of every girl passing through.

"Ew, what's the Leech doing outside?" one of them asked while I was taking a potty break. She stood in front of the mirror with her friend, primping.

"He's following Shard around so she doesn't get these weird headaches and visions," another one said. "I think it's kind of sweet."

"Ugh, I don't," said a third. "I'd get so annoyed with him, leeching off my powers all the time. I'd never get a chance to practice with my ability. I heard from Susanne who heard for Connie who heard from Katie who heard from Kitty that Shard is a Class 4 Mutant. I'm not so sure she'd still be one though, since Leech won't be giving her a chance to use her ability any."

"I'd _hate_ being powerless."

The other girls murmured in agreement before finally leaving. I remained where I was, thinking. While it was true Jimmy kept the awful headaches at bay, it was also true that I hadn't had a chance to practice my glass ability at all. I was probably growing rusty by the minute. With a sigh I realized I would have to ask Jimmy to not hang around me so much anymore.

But when I stepped out of the bathroom and he turned to me with a big grin and said, "I asked Jones to set up the X-box for us, and Storm bought me a new game yesterday. I'm going to have so much fun beating you!" I couldn't bring myself to tell him to run along and find someone else to play with him.

So I resigned myself to having a shadow and told myself to get used to it. Unfortunately as the days turned into weeks and the weeks slowly turned into months, even Jimmy's games and bright smile couldn't keep away the fact that I needed space and time to myself. To practice with my ability, to spend quality time with Peter, and to figure out what to do with my dreams. So far Logan hadn't been able to find anyone for us, though Peter said he was still looking.

In the meantime, I had to try to find a way to get Jimmy to leave me alone without hurting his feelings. I realized that he had very few friends, and even some of those didn't like to spend too much time around him because he "leeched" off their powers and they didn't like being powerless.

It probably shouldn't have bothered me as much as it did, but I was beginning to feel frustrated over being powerless as well. None of this was Jimmy's fault really, but on my bad days, it didn't seem to matter.

"Argh!" I cried, when I accidentally knocked my cup to the floor one day. It shattered on impact and I looked dismally down at the mess.

"Jimmy, go stand over there," I said, pointing to a far corner where his ability wouldn't affect me.

"But you might have a vision!" Jimmy protested, looking at me anxiously.

"This'll only take a couple seconds," I insisted, laying a hand on his chest and pushing him away gently.

"Peter said your vision in the tower lasted only a split second and you were unconscious," Jimmy argued. "You could have one the second I step away."

"It's more than likely I won't," I ground out through gritted teeth. He was beginning to get on my last nerve.

"But what if you do?" he persisted.

"Damn it, Leech! Go _away_!" I gave him a shove that was more forceful than I meant it to be. He stumbled back, looking at me with wide eyes full of hurt.

I glowered at him until he moved further back. An ache started to pound in my head and I knew then that he was far enough away for me to use my powers. I concentrated on the bits of broken glass and pulled them up to me. I was relieved to find that it was just as easy as I remembered. Quickly I refashioned the glass to the shape it once was. I couldn't remember how my cup had looked exactly before, but ended up with something that looked pretty close. Unfortunately when I set it down I saw that it was leaning to one side. Apparently I hadn't had time to master my cylinders yet.

I rubbed my forehead with a sigh, turning to apologize to Jimmy now that my fear of not being able to use my abilities had abated. But when I looked to where he had been, I saw no one. Looking around the room, I saw that Jimmy was nowhere to be seen.

Groaning, I ran a hand over my face and stepped out of the kitchen where we had been eating breakfast. "Jimmy?" I called uncertainly down the hall. No response. I walked farther down it, keeping an eye out for him. Instead I found Peter, walking toward me briskly.

"Peter! Have you seen—"

"Madi!" he started at the same time. "Logan found someone to help you!" He paused then, studying my face. "What's wrong?" he asked.

I shook my head, banishing Jimmy from my thoughts as more important news came my way. "Who did Logan find?" I asked, eager yet at the same time apprehensive.

Peter studied me for a moment before answering. "He says she's an extremely powerful telepath and can also turn her skin into diamonds." He cocked his head, looking down at me with an amused smirk. "I wonder if you'd be able to manipulate her in that form."

"Diamonds aren't glass, Pete," I reminded him with a smile. "What's her name?"

"Her name is Emma Frost, and she's on her way to the school right now."

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**Now I haven't read the comics so whatever I know of Emma Frost comes from the X-Men Origins movie (which isn't much actually). I did look her up on wikipedia so I have a fair amount of knowledge as to her abilities. =)  
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**Anyway, this chapter is a little bit fluffy, a little bit dramaful, and a little bit stressed out. ;P Review and tell me what you think!  
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	26. Nota Bene

**NB: Sorry, this isn't a chapter update. =( I'm still working on it.**

**However, I wanted to give ya'll some more specifics concerning the poster/cover contest. I've decided that instead of an official looking "poster" or "cover" (though you can still do that if you wish), ya'll can just draw/paint/photomanipulate your favorite scene from the story so far. XD**

**I thought that'd give you a wider range of options. I've also pushed back the contest end date. The new deadline is the Ides of June, or in plain English: June 15th. That'll give ya'll some more time to play with this. =D**

**Remember, the winner gets to help me with one of my chapters! How exciting is that?!**


	27. Chapter XXV

**A/N: Again, I am sooooooooooo sorry I haven't updated in forever. My family and I moved from our tiny house to a nicer place about 45 mins away, but it took a while to get everything packed. Then I got sick for a week, then I got a new job. Then I got sick for another week. And then I worked more at my new job. So basically I haven't had time nor energy nor inspiration to write a new chapter.**

**But I finally pulled myself together and got this one finished, though it took me about a month to write. Sorry if it seems off-kilter at all. I wrote part of it a month ago and then the rest of it tonight.**

**I was rather sad to see no one stepped up to the plate with my contest idea. =( Though I do have someone over in deviantART making me something of Madi. I'll be sure to post a link for it so ya'll can see it when it's done. =)**

**Now without further adieu, on to the chapter!  
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****Chapter XXV**

Peter wanted to take me to see Logan right away, but I told him I had to find Jimmy first. Peter followed me as I wandered around the school, inside and out, calling Jimmy's name. But no matter where I went I couldn't find him. Finally Peter told me to try again later, that Emma wouldn't like to be kept waiting.

I followed morosely, feeling incredibly guilty about how I'd spoken to Jimmy. Peter guessed my mood and put his arm around my shoulders. I looked up at him gratefully and slipped my arm around his waist, walking close. When we reached Professor Monroe's office, Emma was standing next to Logan, waiting for us.

She raised an eyebrow at our affectionate stance and for some reason I felt embarrassed and dropped my arm from around Peter. He lifted his arm off my shoulders without a word though I could feel his puzzlement. I wasn't entirely sure why I had let go, but something about Emma made me uncomfortable.

It could have been her attire. I hadn't seen so much skin on someone who _wasn't_ a hooker. It was all white leather, from her thigh-high stiletto boots, to the cleavage-bearing long-sleeved leotard she wore. It was all very sexy though it seemed in almost an innocent way since her face didn't look seductive at all. It looked cold, calculating. I glanced around and saw that I wasn't the only one uncomfortable. Storm's forehead was creased above her nose and Peter stared straight ahead, his cheeks pink. Only Logan didn't seem affected by Emma's presence. He simply leaned against the back of a chair and watched us all impassively.

"Miss Frost, this is Madison Clark," Storm introduced. "She's the one we were telling you about. These visions—"

"Yes, yes, the girl can speak for herself," Emma said, cutting off Storm with a wave of her hand. Ice blue eyes stared at me through a pale face fanned with a curtain of blonde hair.

"What's your name, child?" she asked, though she hardly looked older than her mid-twenties.

"Professor Monroe just said—"

"No, I want your _real_ name," Emma interrupted me, sounding so much like Magneto that I shivered.

"Shard," I said quietly, knowing that's what she wanted.

She nodded slowly. "I thought so. I've heard about you Shard; I've heard a lot about you."

For some reason that made me feel uneasy, but I just nodded dumbly.

"Now, let me see what's going on inside that magnificent mind of yours," she said, laying her fingers gently on my temples. I shut my eyes tightly, waiting for the pain of my mind being invaded.

But she went in smoothly, effortlessly. It didn't hurt at all. I was able to relax slightly as she went through my memories and my dreams, picking out fact from fiction. She lingered too long, I thought, on the memory of the night I slept with John. I was tempted to call her a perv and tried to shove her out, but then she moved on, focusing instead on the vivid nightmares of my killing Warren. She seemed to ponder over these for a while before turning to my relationships with Jones, Artie, Jimmy, Peter, and Kitty.

After what felt like a lifetime, she pulled away. I was surprised to find us in the exact same spot as before. When I glanced at a clock, I saw that only two minutes had passed. Seriously? We went through my entire life in only two minutes? She _was_ good.

"I will need time to think over what I've seen," she said, dropping her hands from my temples and turning to speak to Logan. She ignored Storm.

I sagged slightly when she pulled away and Peter caught me easily in his arms. I leaned against him gratefully. Emma watched us closely.

"Colossus," she said finally, giving Peter a thin smile. "You take good care of her."

"Yes, ma'am," Peter said in slight puzzlement, unsure if she was telling him or simply making an observation.

She studied us for a moment longer before waving her hand in dismissal. "I'll visit you tonight before I retire to bed and we'll work on riding you of that awful headache."

"Thank you," I said with a small smile, but she'd turned back to Logan and Storm and was talking to them in a low voice that I couldn't hear.

"I guess that's our cue to leave," Peter said, turning me toward the door.

"I have to find Jimmy," I said, suddenly remembering. I hurried out the door in search for the boy, Peter close behind me.

I found him where I thought I might: in front of the TV in the rec room, playing video games by himself. The other kids in the room had moved to the far corners, even though his leeching ability only worked from about two feet away or closer. I frowned at the few glances that I caught and sat down beside him. Peter took a seat on the couch, watching us.

He didn't look at me, but kept his eyes on the game. I watched him play for a little while before nudging his arm at a crucial moment, making him mess up.

He turned to me with a scowl. "What did you do that for?" he asked, annoyed. "I was on level ten!"

"You were ignoring me," I said, sticking out my lower lip in a pout.

He stared at me for a moment before turning back to the game to restart it. "Leave me alone," he said testily. "Isn't that what you wanted me to do? Leave _you_ alone?"

I watched him steadily until he shifted uncomfortably and looked over at me.

"What?" he asked irritably, which I didn't get since technically _he_ was the one ignoring _me_.

I didn't answer him, just attacked his side with my fingers, tickling him mercilessly. He shrieked with laughter, drawing some annoyed looks from the kids in the corners, but I ignored them.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Jimmy screeched in between bursts of laughter.

"Will you stop ignoring me?" I demanded.

"Yes, yes!" he gasped, giggling as I pulled my hands away.

I smirked at him and stood, offering a hand to help him up. "Take a walk with me?" I asked quietly.

He looked at me for a second before taking my hand and pulling himself to his feet. I held on to his hand firmly as we walked out of the room, ignoring the heated whispers that began as soon as the students thought we couldn't hear them. Jimmy tried to pull his hand away but I held on tightly as I walked toward the doors that led to the courtyard.

I led him over to the bench and sat down. When I looked up I saw that Peter had followed at a distance. He caught my eye and I shook my head faintly. He nodded and stopped to lean against a tree, his back to us.

I turned toward Jimmy and smiled slightly, reaching up to brush the hair away from his face.

"I like you with hair," I said randomly. "It looks nice."

Jimmy just watched me with solemn eyes. He was so serious sometimes it was unnerving. I sighed.

"Look Jimmy, I'm sorry I . . ." I hesitated, not sure what to say really.

"Pushed me and called me Leech?" he offered flatly.

I cringed. "Yeah," I said, biting my lip lightly. "I'm really sorry I did that. I shouldn't have pushed you, and I certainly shouldn't have called you 'Leech'. And I really hate you ignoring me, I really do. I just . . . I don't think I need you anymore."

"I see," Jimmy said, and I could see he was struggling hard not to look hurt. He turned his face away and I winced again.

"No, no I don't mean like that," I said quickly. "I mean I don't need you for my headaches anymore. Logan found this telepath named Emma Frost. She's going to help me. You don't have to worry about me anymore. You can go . . . make friends. Do things . . . fun. You don't have to stick by me like glue all the time."

Jimmy stared down at his feet, scuffing the toe of his shoes against the grass lightly. I sighed and gave his hand a light squeeze. "Jimmy, look at me," I said gently, and waited until he tore his gaze away from the ground and looked up at me.

"I'm your friend, and I always want to be your friend," I told him softly. "And I hope you still want to be _my_ friend. I just need space to work on my ability . . . and spend time with Peter." Jimmy glanced over at the colossal guy sitting against the tree. "Anyway, I just wanted to say that . . . I love you, Jimmy. But I can't always have you around."

Jimmy nodded, turning his face back to the ground. "I understand," he said quietly.

I grinned faintly. "Thanks," I said, bending over to kiss his cheek lightly. "Now, come on, I think Jones and Artie need a buddy to play with."

"But I leech their powers," Jimmy protested as I stood and pulled on his hand.

"They don't care," I said firmly. "These guys are cool. I know you all could be great friends."

Jimmy didn't look completely convinced, but he allowed me to pull him to his feet. Together we walked back into the school, heading toward the rec room. Jones and Artie were there, doing homework at one of the tables. I led Jimmy over and sat him down firmly in a chair.

"Since I met someone today who's going to help me with my headaches," I began, "Jimmy here is out of a job. I want you two to teach him how to have fun outside of playing video games all day. Okay?"

Jones glanced from Jimmy to me and then back again. He smiled thinly. "Okay," he said.

"Okay!" Artie said, a lot more enthusiastically.

I patted Jimmy on the shoulder and wished him luck, trying to ignore the pained look on his face as I left him there to walk back to Peter.

"You okay?" he asked when he saw my carefully impassive face.

"Yeah," I said with a slight nod, taking his hand. I smiled up at him and led him out into the hall.

"You think I'm doing the right thing? Getting Emma to go into my head?" I asked him quietly.

Peter was quiet a moment as he thought. That was one of the things I loved about him. He waited and listened and thought about things before saying or doing anything. Unlike John who just leapt into decisions without thinking of the consequences. Stupid hothead.

"I don't like seeing you in pain," Peter said finally. He reached up and tucked my short hair behind my ear. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "So I think if this Frost woman can help you get rid of the headaches, it's worth having her go inside your head." He gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "And I'll be with you the whole time."

I smiled and closed my eyes as he leaned down to kiss me. Before our lips met however, an abrupt clearing of a throat sounded beside us. I opened my eyes and turned quickly to see John watching us with a slightly disgusted expression.

"Keep the PDAs to a minimum, would you?"

I stuck my tongue out at John. "Go away and it won't be public," I said.

He rolled his eyes and turned to go into the rec room. Peter chuckled and interlaced his fingers with mine.

"He's jealous," he observed.

"I know," I said, sighing. "I'm trying not to let it bother me. But sometimes . . ."

"Do you miss him?" Peter asked seriously, staring down at me with those deep, compassionate brown eyes. I tried to hold his gaze, but I felt my eyes slipping away. I stared down at the floor.

"I . . ." I couldn't answer. I bit my lip hard, burning a hole in the carpet with my gaze.

Then Peter's fingers were under my chin and he lifted my head to look me in the eye.

"Hey," he said gently. "It's okay if you miss him. I actually think it's good if you do. Otherwise you wouldn't be the girl I know and love." He stroked my cheek lightly. "You can't help but care about others, no matter who they are."

"I never loved him like I've come to love you," I told him sincerely, hoping he believed me.

Peter smiled slightly. "I know," he said gently.

He bent down and kissed me then, and I forgot all about my guilt over missing John. Before we got far though, Emma suddenly appeared next to us, nearly causing me to jump out of my skin.

She gave us both a thin smile as we turned toward her. She glanced back and forth between us briefly before settling her gaze on me.

"It's time," she said, her smile growing slowly until her teeth showed.

I was suddenly struck with a strange sense of dread, but I didn't understand it. Taking my hand, Emma led me away from Peter. I glanced back at him.

"Wait," I said, trying not to panic. "I want him with me."

She glanced over at Peter and then shook her head as he took a step toward us. "For this we need to be alone."

I wanted to ask her why but before I could she whisked me into an empty classroom and shut the door firmly behind us.

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**o.O Is anyone else a little creeped out by Emma? I know I am . . . I totally don't know why she's coming out so creepy either. It's just the way she wants to be written in this story . . . Review and tell me what you think!**


	28. Chapter XXVI

**A/N: So sorry for the wait. My inspiration and motivation went down severely due to some family situations going on up in here. However, I felt like you all had been waiting long enough so I dished out this chapter despite the fact that my Muse is on vacation or something and practically refuses to talk to me right now. So sorry if this chapter seems off in any way. I'm still trying to drag my Muse back (and I will! Even if I have to pull her kicking and screaming, grrr).**

**On a happier note, the link to the deviantART digital painting a fellow dA member made me of Madi can be reached on my profile. Check it out! It's wicked sweet. XD**

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****Chapter XXVI**

When I woke up, I immediately knew something was wrong. I could tell I was lying in a bed. My bed, I assumed, though I couldn't remember how I'd gotten there. My last memory was Emma leading me into the classroom and shutting the door firmly. She turned to me with a strange little smile in her pale face and had laid her fingers against my temples, telling me to relax and let her in.

And now I was awake, but my eyes were still closed. I tried to open them but nothing happened. I went to move my arm, to force my eyelids open, but my arm didn't move.

I began to hyperventilate as panic set in. Only . . . my chest continued to move up and down steadily. What was going on?

A soft chuckle made me start (though my body didn't move).

"Who's there?" I tried to say, but my mouth didn't open.

_Don't worry. The first realization is always the hardest. You'll get used to it after a while._

I recognized the voice. It was Emma's.

_What did you do to me? _I demanded.

_Calm down, sweetheart. I have everything under control. And if you're a good little girl, I promise you won't remember a thing when I'm done._

_Done? Done with what?_ But I got no answer. Instead my eyes opened and I sat up, though not from any direction of mine.

I watched, completely helpless, as my legs swung over the side of the bed and I stood, crossing over to my closet.

"Honestly, I have such boring clothes," my voice complained as my hands pushed through the clothes in my closet.

_Why are you doing this? _I asked miserably.

"I have things I need to do," I replied simply. If it was strange feeling my body walking around and moving things without me, it was an even stranger feeling hearing my voice coming from a different mind.

_Can't you do them in your own body?_ I grumbled.

She laughed. Well, really I laughed but this was getting too confusing so I decided to separate us before I began thinking _she_ was _me._

"You're very powerful, you know that Shard," Emma said lightly as she began pulling out some clothes to inspect them more closely. "You have the power to bring down this entire school if you wanted to."

I would've felt a hitch in my breath if I had had control of my body. As it was I could just watch helplessly as she pulled on jeans and a tight black cami that exposed a sliver of my stomach beneath my navel. She pulled my hair up into a small ponytail, strands instantly escaping to hang about my face. She then applied some makeup meticulously.

"I don't know why you don't wear more of this," she said, darkening the lines of my eyes. "You're very attractive. You need to show that you know it."

_Looks like I don't need to. You're doing it for me,_ I said with annoyance.

She simply laughed again, heading out the door of my room and making her way down to the cafeteria where breakfast was being served. I watched with apprehension as she approached the table where John sat, alone.

"Pyro," she said simply as she sat down across from him.

"Shard," he replied, somewhat warily. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be off snuggling with your boyfriend or something?"

"You really don't like Peter, do you?" Emma said, setting my elbow on the table and resting my chin in my hand as we stared at him.

John looked rather uncomfortable under our scrutiny.

"He's a Boy Scout. What's not to like?" he asked with extreme sarcasm.

"So you don't like him because he's good," Emma asked slowly.

"Whatever," John said, turning back to his food with a shake of his head. "Do you mind? I'm eating."

"I just wanted to know why you don't like him," Emma said casually, pushing the cami's strap down my shoulder to scratch absently at an invisible bug bite. We both noted that his eyes followed our hand, his gaze resting on the soft skin of my shoulder. He swallowed hard and Emma slowly pulled the strap back into place.

"You know why I don't," he muttered, turning his gaze back to his food but apparently losing all interest in it as he just stared, not touching it.

"You still want me, is that it?" Emma asked with a devilish smirk.

John didn't answer, but he didn't have to. Emma knew the truth. And now, thanks to her awfulness, I did too. I wanted to stay, to tell John that I valued his friendship more than anything, but Emma got up, still smirking.

"I thought so," she said lightly, turning and walking away.

_You're horrible_, I complained.

_Shut up._

Artie, Jones, and Jimmy called me over to their table, but Emma simply waved absently and made straight for Peter who was at a table with Kitty, Bobby, and Rogue.

His eyebrows went up slightly at my outfit, used to my modesty. Even Bobby seemed momentarily distracted, but that might've been a trick of the light.

"Madi!" Kitty exclaimed, jumping up to give me her customary hello hug. "You look different," she commented, stepping back and looking me over.

"I wanted to try something new," Emma said with a shrug. "I kind of feel like a new person now. What with my head fixed and everything."

"No more headaches?" Bobby asked.

"Nope," Emma said happily, sitting down next to Peter. "Everything's great."

"Where's Emma?" Kitty asked as she sat back down. "I haven't seen her all morning."

Peter was characteristically silent, eating his breakfast stoically. I could feel Emma's slight irritation at the lack of reaction she was getting from him. I didn't bother telling her that that was what Peter got like when he was thinking. I knew he knew something was up, and I could only hope and pray that he figured it out soon.

"She had to leave," Emma said lightly. "After she worked on my head yesterday, she said she had some important business to take care of and she left."

Ugh, I wanted to scream in frustration. There was a crazy woman in my head, controlling my body, and my friends were just sitting there eating as though nothing was wrong! Emma turned to Peter and laid a hand on his arm lightly, not even seeming to notice how his muscles tightened when she did.

"Can you come with me?" she asked in a soft voice. "I need to talk to you."

He stood up without a word, nodding briefly and then waiting until Emma stood before following her . . . me . . . us out into the hallway.

"I have a confession to make," Emma said with a soft, regretful sigh. I was suddenly filled with dread.

_What are you _doing_?_ I screamed at her, trying to make myself be heard. But her control was too strong; she simply pushed me back without a word.

"Yesterday . . . I lied to you," Emma said with a hesitation that was very . . . me sounding.

Peter crossed his arms over his chest, his muscles stretching his shirt as he stood there, tense all over. He didn't say anything, simply waited for Emma to continue.

"My feelings for John . . . they're not gone. They've never been gone. I've just been holding them back. For you. For . . . us. But I can't deny them anymore, Peter. Every time I see him . . . I want him. And while I love you, I also love him. And he and I . . . the connection just feels stronger. I'm sorry."

Peter stared at Emma for a long moment. Finally he shrugged and said, "Okay."

I was stunned, and I could feel her surprise as well. "Okay?" she repeated incredulously. "That's it? That's all you're going to _say_?"

"What do you want me to say?" Peter asked, relaxing his arms and shoving his hands inside his pockets as he frowned slightly.

"I don't know. I was expecting a little more than just 'okay'," Emma said, growing irritated.

I stared at him, wondering how in the world Emma could do this to me, and also how in the world Peter was taking this so calmly. And that he didn't even seem to _care_ that I . . . that Emma was breaking up with him.

"Yeah, well it's still early. If you wanted a tantrum you should've told me at lunchtime," Peter said, his mouth quirked in an uncharacteristic half-smile full of bitter, sardonic humor.

"Screw you," Emma snapped crossly.

Peter simply looked vaguely amused. He stared down at us for a long moment before he shook his head and walked back into the cafeteria, leaving Emma seething behind him.

"Huh. Looks like your boyfriend doesn't care as much as you thought he did," she scoffed at me.

_He . . . he does care._ But I was as stunned as her. Everything had happened so fast and now Peter . . .

_Why are you doing this to me?_ I cried, wishing I really _could_ cry.

"Just be glad you won't remember a thing of this later," Emma said snippily. Turning on her heel, she stalked back to my room, apparently to regroup or something. She muttered to herself on the way, cursing Peter and his apparent apathy to the situation.

_Why did you want to get him angry?_ I asked hesitantly.

She didn't answer, simply pulled open my closet and peeled off my jeans, digging around for something else. I wondered what in the world she could be looking for and then she grabbed a black mini-skirt of Kitty's. I honestly had no idea how that got in there, all I knew was that Kitty was still shorter than me, despite my own petite height.

Emma pulled on the skirt, which showed off my legs, being way too short. She then slipped on heels and touched up her makeup.

_I look like a hooker_, I complained.

"You look hot," Emma said smugly, admiring my body in the mirror. The black cami rode up my stomach and the overall effect was rather slutty. I wished I could grind my teeth for I was feeling intense irritation over this whole situation.

_What are you going to do?_ I asked warily.

Again she ignored me, simply putting on more lip-gloss before heading out of the room. I realized with dread that she was heading to John's room.

_Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait_, I begged, wishing she'd stop and listen to me. But she plowed on, entering John's room and going straight for the bed, situating herself on it so she was lounging seductively, the strap of the cami slipping off my shoulder again.

I began to feel sick and that feeling just increased as time went by and the anxiety set in. I tried to reason with her, to tell her how bad an idea this was, but Emma obviously had her own agenda and was not listening to me.

When John came into the room, I about had a heart attack. He took one look at Emma laying on his bed in the skimpy outfit and froze.

"What the hell are you doing here, Shard?" he asked, swallowing hard.

I had to admit, I was proud of his self-control. He stayed by the door, staring over at us with wide eyes full of confusion and something else . . . something akin to lust. My admiration went down a couple points.

"I broke up with Peter," Emma said, sliding off the bed slowly and standing. "I want _you_, John."

"A little too late for that, don't you think?" John asked with a tentative half-smile as he tried his hardest to keep his eyes on my face. "You made it pretty clear that you just wanted to be friends."

"I know, I said that. But I didn't mean it." Emma stepped up to him slowly. "We were always so close, John. I could feel the kinship between us. I know you want me, and I want you. So please . . . no questions. No thinking. Just . . . kiss me." She wrapped my arms around his neck and tilted my head back to look up at him beseechingly.

I could see John's will crumbling. He laid his hands on my hips and, though I loathe admitting it, I could feel my body responding to his touch. The heat of his body was just so warm and familiar.

"You don't want this," he told us in a strangled voice as he leaned down to press his forehead against mine.

"Yes, I do," Emma purred in a voice so unlike mine, I could feel him stiffen slightly. But then Emma pressed my mouth against his and John apparently forgot any misgivings he might've had previously.

I couldn't watch. I wouldn't let myself. It was all too horrible. I did my best to shut everything off. The sound, the sensations, the sight, the smell. I retreated into a corner of my mind where it was dark and quiet and devoid of any sort of feelings or emotions. I wondered briefly if this dark, empty feeling was what people in comas experienced.

Then, thankfully, everything went completely blank and I faded away.

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**Kind of a short chapter, but I figured ya'll had been waiting long enough. Emma's got something up her sleeve, obviously. I wonder what it is . . . (well, I know what it is, but it's not like I'm going to tell ya'll before the big reveal ;P) Review and tell me what you think! Oh, and don't forget to check out the link on my profile and comment on the picture if you have an account. I'm sure the artist would love some feedback as well. =D**


	29. Chapter XXVII

**A/N: Sooooooo sorry again for the long wait! I finally found my Muse though so updates should happen in a more timely manner (hopefully, if she behaves).**

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Chapter XXVII**

When I finally awoke I instantly knew something was wrong. Well, more wrong than when I'd gone away. I was lying on a cold floor, icy water seeping into my clothes. I sat up and was instantly relieved that I _could_ sit up. Emma was gone. Or at least she was no longer controlling my body. When I looked around, however, I was stunned to see that I was in a darkened corridor. It looked familiar but ice covered the walls and shards of glass were everywhere except the immediate area surrounding me. I looked up and saw that every light up there had been shattered.

The light I could see was coming from the windows at the end of the hall. It was moonlight. A figure was slumped on the ground just under the window, a dark pool spread out around it. My mouth and throat grew dry and my body shook slightly as I forced myself to stand. I took a step forward and stumbled slightly, catching myself on the ice-covered wall. The cold burned my hand, and I pulled away with a faint hiss.

The sound rang almost painfully in my ears, and I was suddenly struck by how quiet it was. The only sound other than my quickening breath was the faint drip, drip, dripping of the melting ice. A shiver ran down my spine as I forced myself to walk toward the figure on the floor by the window, moving away the glass that covered the floor. I could only see the silhouette but as I drew nearer I noticed it was human shaped but . . . there was something off. Like a large lump was coming out of its back. When I got close enough to see what it was, a cry rose in my throat. I quickly shoved my fist into my mouth to stifle it.

On the ground before me, his bare chest studded with bloodied shards of glass, laid Warren Worthington III. His face was still and pale in the moonlight. The pool spread around him was blood. His wings were twisted at awkward angles, proof that they were broken. I stumbled back without checking to see if he was still alive. I knew he was dead.

A bitter taste entered my mouth and I quickly lowered my hand, afraid I'd bitten it. But when I looked down at myself I saw with horror that my hands were covered with blood. A rust color stained my shirt and the knees of my jeans. I stumbled back further, wondering what in the world had happened here and finding it all frighteningly familiar.

With a soft cry I turned and ran, slipping in the water but pushing myself faster despite the fact. I raced through the hallways, finally finding my voice to call for help. Only my own voice echoed back, mocking me in the empty school building. I skidded to a stop when I reached the rec room. The couch that Jones usually took up residence was torn to shreds by glass. The TV screen was shattered across the floor. The glass doors were gone. _I did this_, I realized with a flash of horror deeper than I'd ever felt before.

I did the first thing my body told me to do. I ran.

I bolted out the empty doorway and into the courtyard. No one was around. It was completely deserted. It was almost like I was the last person on the planet. A thought that both terrified me and confused me. I slowed to a stop when I exited the courtyard and came to the road. Where _was_ everyone?

I walked hesitantly down the asphalt, wary of anything that might startle me. My nerves were shot and I could feel my body trembling almost uncontrollably. I wrapped my arms around myself tightly and walked quickly, tears slipping down my cheeks before I could stop them. What I'd left behind . . . was straight out of my nightmare. In exact detail spread out before me. It was enough to make my body go into shock, which I'm pretty sure it was about to do.

Before I could however, a car came careening down the road from ahead of me. I hopped back quickly as it sped past me, tires squealing as it rounded the bend toward the school. My body started shaking even more at the close call and I had to lean against a tree to steady myself. My heart-rate picked up again suddenly as I heard the squeal again and the car raced back. I shrank back against the tree, trying to shield myself behind it. The car did a pretty impressive u-turn and then came to a screeching stop with the passenger door facing me. The window rolled down but I couldn't see who was behind the wheel in the darkness.

"Shard!" came a familiar voice. "Get in!"

The door opened and my body reacted before I could stop it. I hopped into the car and it screamed into another sharp u-turn and sped off down the road. I quickly put on my seat-belt then turned to see who my rescuer was. I really shouldn't have been as surprised as I was to discover that it was John Allerdyce.

"You . . . what?" I gasped, completely and utterly confused by now.

"It's okay, Madi. I'm going to get you somewhere safe," he said quietly, and the affection in his voice startled me.

"Safe?" I repeated numbly, wondering what the heck was going on.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, glancing at the blood as he swerved around a car that was going too slow for him and peeled onto the freeway.

"What? No. This is . . . someone else's blood," I murmured, looking down at myself blankly. I looked back up at him then.

"John . . . what happened?" I asked.

"You don't remember?" he asked, staring straight ahead.

"Last I remember . . ." I trailed off, suddenly wondering something. "John," I said, scarily calm all of a sudden. "What day is it?"

"What? Sunday," John said, glancing over at me again.

"No, I mean . . . the date. What's the date?"

He frowned slightly but didn't question me. "June 21st. Two-thousand eleven."

I blinked blankly at him. "That . . . that can't be right," I gasped out when I found my voice again. "That _can't_ be right!"

"What are you talking about?" John asked, swerving around another car which blared its horn.

"It's October. October 27, 2010," I said, shaking my head. I couldn't believe it. I'd lost almost eight months of my life? How was that possible? But when I thought more about it I realized how possible it was. Emma had told me that when she left my body I wouldn't remember anything. I was terrified suddenly of what she could've done to ruin everything in eight months. In fact, it pretty much looked like she _had_ ruined everything.

"Shard, are you okay?" John asked, glancing over at me again with a worried look.

"Don't call me that!" I cried out before I could stop myself.

He looked surprised but I was too caught up in what was happening to care whether or not he thought I was crazy. I brought my hand to my head but stopped when I saw the blood. I lowered it back down onto my lap and scrubbed the stained palm against my jeans, trying to rub it off. John pulled onto the shoulder of the road and slowed to a stop, parking and looking over at me. He reached over and grabbed my wrists to stop my frantic scrubbing.

"Madi, Madi," he said softly in a rather soothing voice. "Stop that. Tell me what's wrong."

I looked up at him miserably. "John, everything I've done these past eight months . . . it wasn't me."

He looked back at me blankly. "I-I don't . . ."

"It was Emma, John. She took over my body. She . . . I don't know what she did but it wasn't me. None of that was me."

He stared at me and his jaw clenched slowly. I felt uneasy rumblings in my stomach as I realized that he and Emma (or rather Emma as me) had probably been together these past months. And to hear that none of . . . whatever she'd done was the actual me must've been a hard blow.

"John," I said softly, reaching out to him, but he pulled back, setting his hands back at ten and two on the wheel. He stared out at the passing traffic and didn't say anything for a moment.

"You know this'll be hard for people to understand," he said after a moment. He glanced over at me. "They might not believe you. It really did seem like you and you . . . or her . . . whichever, you caused a lot of damage."

"I know," I whispered. "I saw."

"Do you . . . remember _anything_ that happened?" he asked slowly, not looking over at me again.

I shook my head slowly. "What _did_ happen?" I asked hesitantly.

He didn't answer me for a moment. Instead he adjusted the rearview mirror and looked out of it. "Sunrise will be here soon," he muttered. "Gotta get you somewhere safe."

"Is someone after me?" I asked nervously, that uneasy feeling bubbling up again.

He glanced over at me. "After today? They're all after you."

I didn't like how that sounded but I fell silent as he peeled out of the shoulder and back onto the freeway.

"John?" I asked softly after a moment. "Where's Peter?" Somehow I couldn't believe that he could possibly let me do what I'd done back at the school. John didn't answer however, simply pulled farther ahead, pushing 80 then 85 then 90.

"Pyro?" I tried again.

"He's dead," John said shortly.

I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. I remained frozen in my seat, staring numbly out of the windshield for the remainder of the drive.

John took me to the mountains. The Appalachian Mountains to be exact. There was a cabin up there, apparently uninhabited for a while. A rusty old truck sat in the driveway like it'd been there for years. The garden was overgrown and the fence was rather dilapidated, sagging in spots and crawling with weeds and vines. The cabin itself was brick so it didn't look _too_ worn down, but when John parked and took me inside, dust was everywhere.

"This was my dad's, back in the day," he said, closing the door behind us. "No one knows about it though except me and my parents so . . . you should be safe here."

I didn't say anything as I wandered around, looking at the dusty furniture and unable to help thinking the entire place felt very dismal, like me. At least we had something in common.

"Um, here's the bathroom if you want to wash up," John said, gesturing to the small room. "I've got some clothes and stuff for you here." He handed me a dufflebag that was sitting by the door. I took it without a word and headed into the bathroom.

The warm water of the shower felt good on my chilled body, but I kept it short. The duffle had clothes I didn't recognize but they fit me well enough. In jeans and a black sweater, I came out and went to sit on the couch. John was in the kitchen area that was open to the living room. He glanced over at me then came over with a cup of hot chocolate. He handed it to me and then sat down on the coffee table, facing me.

"You still want to know what happened?" he asked softly.

I just looked at him, knowing I didn't need to say anything for him to understand. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, pushing his fingers through his hair agitatedly.

"Right, well, here's what happened."

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**Dun, dun, dun, duuuuuuuuuuun! Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. Everything's really confusing now but I promise it'll make sense in the fuuuuuuture. ;P In the meantime, review and tell me what you think of this chapter!**


	30. Chapter XXVIII

**A/N: Gah, so sorry about the wait again. What with my job and then holidays (I went up to Canada for a week, that was fun XD) it was hard to settle down and write. And now I have to do child-care training for my job and that's eating up time but I _finally_ buckled down and just wrote the freakin' chapter. ;P So yeah, enjoy! (It's a little shorter than my previous chapters (breaking my own rule of 2k at least per chapter =( ) but I just couldn't come up with the last 96 words. So yeah. Here you go.)  
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Chapter XXVIII**

I guess I should've noticed something different about you right away. I mean, you didn't really _act_ like the Shard I knew. I mean, sometimes you were the same. You'd do that thing that you do with your nose when you're thinking, stuff like that. But overall you acted . . . well, weird.

You started ignoring Colossus completely. I mean, I knew you had a thing for him, so it was just weird to me that you'd treat him like that, even if you _had_ dumped him. You didn't really pay attention to your little kid friends either. At first I thought that you'd just grown tired of them or something. I mean, they're _kids_, you know? But I also knew that the real Madison Clark wouldn't be that way to her friends.

I tried not to notice at first though; I mean, I wanted it to be real, you know? I wanted you to want _me_, not that overlarge Boy Scout. Sorry. And, I mean, the sex was amazing. Come on, don't look at me like that. I'm sorry, okay? If it makes you feel any better I'm not going to try to come on to you or anything _now_. So could you please sit down? Thanks.

. . .

Um, Shard? The uh, glass is still . . . fine, fine, leave it there. What was I saying? Oh yeah . . .

So things were obviously off and I wasn't the only one who noticed. You started asking some pretty weird questions. About Professor X's special telepathy room and who the different specific X-Men were, stuff like that. People started to get suspicious. But you were careful, or rather _she_ was careful. You cozied up to that winged guy. Angel. You two got pretty close. Almost made me jealous. I mean, you kind of became an outcast when you pushed everyone else away, and he was kind of a loner too. Anyway, he doted on you like a little sister or something and you got him to tell you all about his dad and his work and what happened at Alcatraz from his perspective and everything was just . . . yeah.

Then last week, you attacked Worthington Industries. Hundreds of workers were killed and the entire place was destroyed. Your, uh, ability is rather impressive. Word got out and they tried to restrain you here. But you wouldn't be taken in. You . . . attacked the school. It was so freaky. Your face was so pale . . . your eyes turned red. Colossus tried to get to you, but you . . . you weren't alone. Somehow you'd gotten other Mutants from Magneto's side in. You broke every glass within a mile or something. They were able to climb through the windows . . .

It was complete chaos. No one could get to you. Not even Colossus. He tried, he really did. But you got Rogue. She was powerless, the perfect victim. He shifted back into normal form, to try and reason with you, I guess. You said you were doing this as payback for Alcatraz and for what they did to Magneto. And . . . and Juggernaut came up behind him and . . . snapped his neck.

You didn't even flinch. In fact, I think you were about ready to kill Rogue too but Iceman came. That son of a gun froze the entire hallway, you included. You didn't see it coming, I guess. Anyway, he got Rogue and we all got out of there. But Angel went back. He thought for sure you'd listen to him. Though how the idiot thought that after what had happened to Colossus . . . I don't know. Storm wouldn't let anyone go back but I got away. I had to see if I could do anything. Especially after I . . .

Anyway, that's when I found you by the side of the road. You looked . . . more like yourself. I saw the fear in your eyes and knew whatever had happened to you had passed. And . . . that's what happened.

0000000

I sat in silence for a long time. It felt like forever. I let the glass shard I'd been hovering near his throat fall to the ground with a _clank._ I stared into the fireplace, my eyes dry even though I wanted to cry. The fact that I couldn't remember any of it seemed to distance me from it all. Like it had happened to someone else, not me. How could this have happened to me? My life was full of enough crap. The universe couldn't hate me _this _much . . . could it?

John was watching me closely. "What happened, Shard? With you and Angel?"

"I . . . I don't know," I forced out after a moment, though the fact was I had an idea of what had happened. The memory of my nightmares came to the forefront of my mind.

Warren standing there by the window, looking sad and dejected. His blue eyes full of pain. He'd looked down at me. His shoulders and wings slumped. I'd walked up to him. A smug expression had been on my face. It had been warm that fall. And my rage filled my body enough to help melt the ice that had encased me. And now I was free and Warren was standing there . . . so pathetic. So . . . (heartbroken, I realized now. Had we really become like brother and sister? Warren and I? It didn't seem possible, but then . . . it sort of made sense, in a way. We were both outcasts. We both felt guilty over something that had happened with our parents. We didn't really seem to fit very well at the School. He was so quiet and I had spent my first few months at the School never talking to anyone aside from Jones and Artie. Perhaps we could've been close . . . But it was too late now).

"_I can't believe you would do this, Shard."_

His words echoed through my subconscious. And that horrible moment . . . the shards rising in the air, the look of surprise and pain on his face as the glass struck his bare chest and the shards slammed him into the wall . . . were all there. He'd crumpled to the ground, his wings shredded and bent. I'd turned . . . no, she turned. To walk away. Slipped on the melting ice . . . fell . . .

And then I woke up. In a nightmare worse than the ones before.

"What happened to the others?" I asked in a hoarse voice.

"They scattered, last I heard. Some looking for you, some hunting down the bunch that attacked the school with you. Some returning Colossus to his home city to bury him." John's voice was surprisingly gentle when he said that last bit.

"They think I'm a bad guy now, huh?" I said, my voice sounded dead in my own ears.

"Pretty much."

I sighed and rubbed my forehead wearily. I didn't know what to do. I was completely lost. Emma had stolen everything from me and I had no idea how to fix any of it.

I never wanted to be the villain. But somehow I'd ended up as one. And I had no doubt that if I ever saw my old friends again, they wouldn't hesitate to kill me . . . or at least capture me and hold me prisoner for an undetermined amount of time.

"What about Artie?" I asked then, glancing sidelong at him. "Jones? Jimmy? Kitty?"

"Kitty . . . she's fine," John said, though I noticed some slight hesitation over her name. "TV kid and Frog boy are fine too." (I tried not to bristle over him calling them that.)

"What about Jimmy?" I asked hesitantly.

John leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling for a long moment as dread began to creep into my stomach, clenching it in an iron fist.

"John, what happened to Jimmy?" I asked, slowly and succinctly, staring at him and wishing I could force him to look at me with my intense gaze alone.

Finally he turned his head and looked over at me. "He was the first one who tried to stop you. When he saw what you were doing with your powers he . . . he ran up and grabbed you close, effectively cutting your powers off. Everyone watched as you picked up a glass shard and . . . and stabbed him in the neck."

He grimaced as he spoke, but I didn't hear him. I could only stare blankly, envisioning the entire thing in a red haze. Remembering? Could I . . . remember?

I flinched as my mind's eye saw Jimmy running up to me. He was so tall . . . I could feel his arms around me. His voice whispering desperately in my ear.

"_Shard, Shard don't. Please . . . please don't. This isn't you. You're not a villain. You're not a—"_

And then blood. Everywhere. Staining my clothes. My hands. His gurgling in my ear. His body sliding down mine before landing in a heap at my feet. The collective gasp of the room. The surge of power in my body. The glass . . . everywhere . . . exploding.

"NO!" I screamed, jumping up and covering my ears with my hands, as if that would stop the flashback. "NO! NO! _NO!_"

John jumped up, grabbing me as I sagged against him, the tears coming then. Violent sobs that shook my body. I clung to him, my knees weak. He held me tightly to his chest, resting his head against mine and apparently not minding that his shirt was getting soaked with my tears. I gasped for breath to try and calm down but I just couldn't. With surprising ease, he leaned down and picked me up, sitting down and placing me in his lap as he cradled me to his chest. I continued to sob, unable to stop now that the torrent was loose. All the emotion I'd kept buried since John first told me that Peter was dead came forth in one fell swoop.

I tried to be in denial. Colossus, Angel, and Jimmy . . . they couldn't be dead. I couldn't have killed them. I would've stopped Emma if it had come to that. I _should've_ been able to stop her! Why hadn't I been able to stop her? How was it that I'd been able to come back to my senses only _after_ the destruction Emma had caused using my body, using my powers? Suddenly I hated being a Mutant more than anything. I wished I'd taken the Cure. If I had, none of this would've happened. I wouldn't be here, right now, sobbing so hard I felt my chest would crack.

I don't know how long we sat there. But I felt something change within me. A new feeling I'd never really experienced before. My pulse raced, my head reeled, my face felt flushed, my hands felt sweaty. And I knew. I knew without a shadow of a doubt.

I hated Emma Frost with all my being.

And I was going to hunt her down.

And I was going to kill her.

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**DUN, DUN, DUN, DUUUUUUUUN! Yup, Madi's fuming now. Emma better watch out. (Yes, I know I killed off a bunch of characters but remember! this is not the end ;) though the end is in sight. Man, I'm sad to see this story coming to a close. I'm almost to 200 reviews too. =D **

**And if you're all wondering if I'm going to do the same thing as I did when I hit the 100 review mark then that answer is . . . YES! If this story is still going when I hit 200 reviews, that lucky reviewer will get a chance to help me write a scene from their OWN imagination! =D Huzzah for the lucky reviewer!)**

**In the meantime though, review and tell me what you think of this chapter! I know not a lot happened, but then a lot DID happen too.  
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	31. Chapter XXIX

**A/N: Sooooooooooooooo sorry I haven't updated in forever! These past few months have been crazy. I finally buckled down to finish this second to last chapter for you all, and hopefully the last chapter will be up sooner than this one!**

**I'm rather sad that this story is ending, it has been a long journey. But who knows? Maybe we'll see Madi and the gang sometime in the future.**

**A shout-out to hypergeek21 who was my 200th reviewer and gave me several good ideas for this chapter (the ending is her idea alone ;) ).**

**And now, without further ado: the Penultimate Chapter of A Broken Shard. *cue applause***

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**Chapter XXIX**

I didn't tell John my plan, knowing he'd probably try to talk me out of it. We went to bed (me in the bed and him on the couch, thank you very much) and though it took me a while to fall asleep, I eventually did.

I dreamed of the school. Of how it'd been before I woke up in this nightmare. For some reason though it was exactly how it was when I left. Nothing had changed, except the day, perhaps. I stood in the courtyard, watching as kids around me played happily. Through the glass double doors to the rec room, I could see Bobby and Rogue flirting on the couch, Jones behind them looking a little disgusted. My heart leapt to my throat, and I tried to run toward them, but I couldn't move. I kept trying, however, and finally I was able to walk forward a few steps. It took some effort, and I felt worn out after only a couple of minutes. When I glanced behind me I saw why. My body was still standing in the place where I'd just been standing. My arms were folded, and I had a slight frown on my face as though I were thinking about something. I remembered Emma Frost and shuddered to think of what scheme she might've been thinking up.

I realized something then. This was all wrong. My dreams were always of the future, not of the past. What was going on?

Before I could figure it out, I was whisked back to my nightmare as I woke up in a cold sweat, breathing hard. John was standing over me and I bit back a stifled scream of surprise. He looked apologetic but all he did was throw some clothes at me.

"Come on," he said.

"Where are we going?" I asked as I gathered up the clothes.

"I'm taking you to Magneto."

"Why?" I asked warily, pretty sure that didn't bode well.

"He's probably the only one who can tell us where Emma Frost is."

I realized he was right. I got out of bed and hurried to the bathroom to change, continuing the conversation from behind the door.

"Do you think he'll tell us?" I called out.

"He's powerless now. He'll have to tell us," John said flatly. I could hear the hate barely hidden in his voice. I knew that John had taken it personally that Magneto hadn't gone back to find him when everyone was fleeing Alcatraz. That he hadn't sent anyone back for him. That he'd left John for dead. I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to be in the same room with the two of them when John was like this, but I didn't really have a choice.

I didn't tell John my plan though. I didn't want to just find Emma and kill her now. What would that solve? Everyone would still be dead. No. I wanted to find a time-traveler. Someone who could take me back in time to stop Emma from ever taking over my body. I could live with splitting headaches if it meant my friends got to live.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. The scar had faded; it didn't look so grotesque anymore. In fact, I could barely see it. That didn't seem right, but I wasn't exactly in the mood to pay close attention to my appearance (evidenced by the fact I was wearing one of John's shirts and some grubby cargo pants that were too big for me).

"Shard?" John said hesitantly, knocking on the bathroom door gently. "Are you okay in there?"

"I'm fine," I said quickly, splashing my face with some water. I looked back up in the mirror and jumped slightly. There was someone behind me! I whirled around, ready to fight if I had to, but no one was there. I glanced back at the mirror hesitantly. Nothing. Nothing but my reflection staring back at me, its face pale. I frowned slightly, trying to remember what I'd seen. It had been too quick for me to really study it, but I remembered . . . it was human. A woman. With blonde hair.

"Emma Frost?" I tried hesitantly, wondering if it were possible that she could teleport as well as turn into diamonds and push herself into people's brains.

No one answered me. I told myself I was being an idiot and quickly opened the door, still feeling a little shaky from my scare.

"You look pale," John commented.

"I'm fine," I snapped a little harsher than I meant to.

John held up his hands in surrender. "Are you hungry? There's not much but I can make you some eggs or something."

"Let's just do this," I said, moving past him to the front door, figuring I could eat later. Besides, my stomach was too much in knots from what I'd seen in the bathroom mirror to allow me to eat anything.

We got into the car and John drove off. I was surprised to see how normal everything looked. After what had happened at the school, I'd almost expected a post-apocalyptic feel to everything. My whole world had been destroyed, so it made sense that the _actual_ world might've been destroyed. But it wasn't. John stopped at a stoplight and I stared at it uncomprehendingly.

"What?" John asked, glancing over at me.

"Everything's so . . . normal," I said hesitantly.

"I know, it's kind of weird. But what can you expect? No one cares about the Mutants. It didn't even make international news. It was in the paper for like, a day. And the local news said a few words about it. But that's all. Stupid humans don't even care that the X-Men saved their lives . . ." He trailed off, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"I thought you hated the X-Men," I pointed out softly.

"I _do_," John snapped and I decided to back off.

The rest of the trip was made in silence. I was expecting to meet Magneto at some kind of expensive house or penthouse apartment, so I was surprised when we drove up to Central Park instead. I followed John as he led the way through the park to where a group of chess tables were set up. There were various old people sitting around, playing quiet games and muttering under their breath.

But there was one old man seated by himself, hunched over as he stared at the board thoughtfully. His face was obscured by a cap but when we approached him he lifted his head. It was Magneto. He looked surprised to see us, but not very surprised.

"I was wondering when you'd return to me," he said to John thoughtfully. "But I must admit, Pyro, I wasn't expecting the girl."

"The girl has a name," I said irritably, my dislike for Magneto heightening.

Magneto simply raised an eyebrow. "Now, I assume you've come here because you want something. Am I correct?"

"We want to find Emma Frost," John said flatly.

"Ah yes, I recall I read something about the School being in some kind of jeopardy. Pity I no longer have my abilities. I could've helped."

I was pretty sure he was lying, but it was hard to tell.

"I don't want to just find Emma," I said then, looking him in the eye. For some reason he wasn't nearly so intimidating when he was just an old man at a chess table in the park. Not a threat to John and me at all. That's what I thought, at least. "I want to go back in time. To when Emma came to the school. I want to kill here _then_, not now."

I frowned as Magneto chuckled. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, but it was obvious he didn't think I could do it. To be honest I wasn't sure if I could either. I'd never killed anyone before, not on purpose anyway, and I wasn't entirely sure I could go through with it. But I had to try. For Peter, for Jimmy, for Warren . . . for everyone.

"There _has_ to be a Mutant with the ability for time-travel," I pressed, pretty darn sure I wasn't about to let Magneto wave this off as a preposterous scheme. If there was any chance that I could go back to change things I was going to take it.

Magneto studied me for a moment. "Heather Tucker," he said then. "The woman you're looking for is Tempo."

"I've heard of her," John said with a nod. "She can manipulate time and fly."

"She's the one you want to find," Magneto said with a small, magnanimous smile. I resisted the urge to smack it off his face. In a way he was responsible for all of this, and I hadn't forgotten it.

John simply nodded and reached over to take my hand, pulling him around and toward the parking lot. I glanced over my shoulder at saw that Magneto had turned back to his chess game. I narrowed my eyes at him slightly and thought I saw something . . .

Before I could figure out what it was, John pulled me around the corner and Magneto was out of sight.

"I think I know where to find her," John said, glancing over at me. I just nodded, everything kind of feeling a little numb to me right now. I didn't know what to do really. I wanted to kill Emma, but I wasn't entirely sure if I could. If I were staring her in the face, with my glass shards suspended all around her . . . could I do the final deed? And what if she was able to stop me?

John got into the car after he made sure I was in. I ended up staring out of the window the entire drive to . . . wherever it was we were going. I glanced over at John.

"Where are we going?" I asked curiously.

"To the carnival," John said.

"Not another fortune teller?" I asked hesitantly.

"Well, kind of. Not really," John said. "But she does work there. It's . . . and interesting carnival. I think there are a quite a few Mutants working there."

"I guess that makes sense," I admitted, remembering how freaky carnies were and how they'd all made me uncomfortable as a child. I never understood why people would want to go see stuff like what they did. It wouldn't have surprised me at all if all the carnival workers were Mutants.

We fell silent then and didn't say anything else to each other the rest of the way.

I fell asleep on the way, exhausted from all the stress. I thought I was starting another dream like the night before, but before I could really tell, I heard a sharp intake of breath. I looked up, glancing over at John. He'd gone pale, sitting there tensely with his hands clenching the wheel. I noticed then that we'd stopped.

"John? What . . ." I trailed off when I realized what he was staring at.

A group of people stood in our way at the outskirts of the carnival. My heart leapt to my throat as I realized who was standing there. It was Kitty. Kitty and Storm and Bobby and Artie, a couple others behind them that I didn't recognize. I was stunned to see Artie and how much he'd grown. He was almost as tall as Bobby now, though not very much time had past.

"They're here to stop us," John said in a tight voice.

"Magneto tipped them off?" I asked, grimacing slightly.

"Probably. They still think Emma's inside of you," John said, chewing on his lip.

"Well, we'll just have to tell them that she isn't," I said, going to open the door. John leaned across me and grabbed the door, slamming it shut.

"What the heck?" I yelped.

"They're not going to take you alive, Shard," John said flatly, giving me a significant look. "You're dead to them. Emma completely took over your body. She killed their friends. Shadowcat and Colossus had just gotten together. She's furious."

"Wait . . . Kitty and _Peter_?" I stared blankly at the scowling girl in front of us. I couldn't believe it. She was so much younger than him and I'd never even known she had liked him. And had he really gotten over me that quickly?

"She kind of jumped him, if that makes you feel any better," John offered, glancing sidelong at me. It didn't.

"So what now? I'm not going to fight them," I said, unable to tear my gaze from the small group.

"No. I am."

I glanced sharply over at him, noticing the firm set of his jawline.

"John, no. They'll kill you," I said softly.

John rolled his eyes. "Glad to see you have so much faith in my abilities."

"Bobby bested you last time you two fought," I reminded him pointedly. "And this time he has backup."

"I wasn't expecting him to turn to ice. I'm better prepared now. I've lived with them for the past year, I think I know my way around their tricks," John said with a sharp nod.

"John, please," I murmured, staring at him now, pretty sure he was going to get himself killed. As much as he was obnoxious and annoying, he was my only friend now and he had been my best friend for a long time. I loved him.

"Once I have them distracted, you take the car and head for the fortune teller's tent," John said without acknowledging me, pulling off his seatbelt and reaching for the car door.

"Wait!" I said frantically, reaching over to grab his arm, terrified that I would lose him too.

He paused, glancing back at me. I scrambled to think of something to say to persuade him not to go, but I knew this was our only chance. So instead I reached up with my other hand to grab the back of his neck, pulling his face toward mine.

Our lips met in a passionate kiss. I didn't even care if the X-Men were watching, or what they thought of me. All I could think of was that I was about to lose my best friend. His hand reached up and tangled his fingers into my hair as he pulled me closer. I melted against him, letting any weird feelings about it slip away.

He pulled away first, sitting back, his breathing heavy. I was rather breathless as well. We stared at each other for a long moment before he swallowed hard.

"I love you, Madi," he said softly then, and I was surprised to hear my real name come from his lips. "I always have."

I bit my lip gently, not sure how to answer that. Because I loved him, but not in the way he loved me. Thankfully he didn't give me time to answer. He leaned forward and gave me a tender kiss on the forehead before slipping out of the car before I could stop him.

He started throwing fireballs right away, scattering those who weren't ready for it. I hopped into the driver's side of the car and slammed on the gas, screeching forward and sending more X-Men scrambling away. I saw Bobby lift his hand to freeze the car or maybe the tires, but John tackled him. The sky grew dark and lightning streaked across the sky. I could see Storm floating toward me in my rearview mirror, but then a streak of fire knocked her to the ground.

As the X-Men ganged up on John, I sped away toward the carnival, tears streaming down my cheeks.

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**I didn't want to kill John, but it fit well with my plan and hypergeek21 had it in her ending. ;) What will happen next? Stay tuned for the final chapter of A Broken Shard!**

**In the meantime, review! I'd love to hear what you think of this chapter and of the story thus-far.  
**


	32. Chapter XXX

**A/N: Hey everyone! Sooooo sorry for the long wait (I know, I know, I saw that a lot. I'm really am sorry though. Really.). Anyway, I know I said this was going to be the last chapter, but I wrote over 2,000 words and got stopped somehow (I don't remember, it was a few months ago) and you guy would've had to wait even _longer_ for me to finish the chapter. So I decided to just upload what I had already to keep you guys from waiting.**

**So yeah, _this_ is the second to last chapter. XD Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter XXX**

My vision was blurry, making it hard for me to see. I reached the carnival but didn't take the time to park. I swerved around a group of clowns and drove straight into a tent. It collapsed on top of the car with a loud crash, a couple screams coming from the right. I hoped I hadn't hit anyone as I forced open the door and stumbled out.

"Are you alright?" someone called to me as I straightened.

"Tempo," I gasped, my chest aching with the sobs that racked my body. "Where is Tempo?"

A rather beautiful black woman stepped forward with a small, curious frown. "I am Tempo," she said in a sort of accent I didn't recognize in my hysteria.

"Please," I said, grabbing her arm. "Please, send me back. I have to go back. I have to save him!"

"Save who?" Tempo asked softly, staring down into my tear-streaked face.

"Him, them, all of them! I can save them, I can. You just have to send me back!"

I had no idea _how_ I was going to save them all; I just knew I had to.

"Shard, I can't send you back," Tempo said, laying her hand against the side of my face gently.

"No, no you _have_ to!" I insisted, tightening my grip on her arm and not realizing that she really shouldn't have known my name.

"Shard, you have to wake up," Tempo said firmly.

I froze, staring up at her as her words finally registered. "What?" I asked numbly.

"Your mother could see the future, correct? And you have nightmares in which you see the future?" Tempo's gaze was intense and she focused on my face as the rest of the world swirled and blurred around us.

"This . . . this is a nightmare?" I asked incredulously. It didn't make sense. But then again, maybe it did.

"How do I wake up? Wake me up! Wake me up!" I cried, shaking her insistently.

Before I knew what was happening, a knife was in Tempo's hand and she handed it to me. "You need to kill yourself, it's the only way to wake yourself up," she told me solemnly.

I didn't stop to question her. I took the knife and plunged it into my heart without hesitation, thinking that if it _wasn't_ all a dream, I would rather be dead then to have to turn back to fight my friends. Pain shattered the world around me, and I screamed. As the world rushed up toward me in a blur, I heard the sound of another woman screaming with me. Before I could figure out who it was, I sat up, covered in sweat, in a bed that was not my own.

Sunlight was streaking through the window, and I shivered slightly. I realized then that I had no clothes on. I glanced quickly to my side, breathing a sigh of relief when I didn't see anyone. I got out of the bed slowly, a headache slicing through my skull. I grimaced and clutched at it before freezing. My head hurt. That meant . . .

That meant Emma was gone, out of my head. I'd forced her out somehow. I saw some clothes in a scattered pile on the floor and scrambled to pull them on. Once I was dressed (in only a short skirt and a tight tank top, but it was better than nothing), I heard the door start to open. I whirled around, the windowpane cracking as I prepared to hurtle glass toward whoever it was.

John stepped into the room, a stupid grin on his face.

"Hey beautiful," he said as he came toward me. "How'd you—"

I didn't let him finish. I closed the distance between us and flung my arms around his neck in a tight hug. My relief at seeing him alive overshadowed any other thought I should've been thinking, such as why he was calling me beautiful, or why I'd woken up naked in his bed.

"Wow, Shard, if I'd known you woke up this excited, I would've stayed in bed," John said with a slight chuckle.

"Shut up," I said, blinking back my tears as I punched his arm and took a step back. "Where's Peter?"

John frowned slightly. "Colossus? I thought you dumped his metallic, stick-jammed a—"

I cut him off before he could finish. "Listen, John, what happened last night . . . that wasn't me."

"Like hell it wasn't," John said with a frown.

"Well, it was me but I wasn't myself. John, I was being controlled by Emma Frost. She was in my head, controlling my actions," I said earnestly, really hoping he believed me. I needed at least one person on my side. I had no idea how far into my horrifying nightmare we were, really hoping I hadn't made too many enemies yet.

John's frown deepened, and he took a step back. "So I just had sex with . . ."

"Emma Frost, yes," I said quickly, a little annoyed that he was fixating on that.

"Well, that makes more sense. You were _way_ too experienced to have been just you. I mean, that thing you did with your tongue and then those legs—"

I didn't bother to tell him to shut up then, I just punched his arm as hard as I could. He yelped slightly and had the decency to at least look a little apologetic.

"Tell me where Peter is," I said in a soft growl.

"He's at breakfast with everyone else," John said, rubbing his arm and pouting a little.

I didn't wait for him to say anything else then. I tore out of the room and ran as fast as I could toward the cafeteria. I could hear John calling for me to wait, but I didn't stop. My headache got worse, but I pushed on through it, not about to let it stop me. I burst into the cafeteria, my eyes scanning the place quickly for my friends. My gaze settled on Peter, picking him out easily among the smaller students. I felt my breath catch in my throat when I saw Kitty beside him, laying her hand lightly on his arm. I resisted the urge to storm over there in a jealous rage, taking several deep breaths to calm down before heading over to the table, catching sight of Bobby and Rogue there as well.

"Peter," I said softly once I reached the table, not sure if he'd even hear me over the general hustle and bustle of the place. He looked up though, quickly as though startled. He looked at me for a long time before he smiled slightly, a warm smile that made my legs feel like jelly.

"Madi," he said in that deep voice of his, moving to stand. "You're back." He gathered me up into a hug. I was too surprised by his response to do anything but stand there for a moment. I could feel the eyes of the table watching us, and I blushed. He pulled away and set his hands on my shoulders, staring down into my eyes.

"How did you know?" I asked softly.

"I could tell you weren't you," Peter said, brushing my hair gently behind my ear and letting his fingers trace lightly over my scar.

"How?" I asked past the lump in my throat, a shiver running down my spine.

He just smiled then, not answering, just looking at me. Taciturn as always.

"What's going on?" Kitty asked, glancing between us.

"You guys, listen," I said, turning to face the table. "Emma Frost got into my head. She made me do things . . ." I shuddered to think of some of those things. "But it wasn't me, I swear. I got her out of my head, but I know what she's planning on doing. I had a nightmare of the future, and it's not pretty. We have to find her and subdue her somehow."

"Where would she be?" Bobby asked.

"I . . . don't know," I admitted. I racked my brain, trying to think of a place Emma would most likely go. While I was thinking, my eye caught sight of Jimmy coming toward me with his tray of food. My breath caught in my throat as I stared. He looked back at me with a puzzled expression once he caught my gaze. I turned away from the others and rushed toward him. All I could see in my mind's eye was that horrible memory (vision of the future?) where my own hand had stabbed him in the jugular with a glass shard.

"Madi, what—" Jimmy started to say before I cut him off, taking away his tray and setting it down before wrapping my arms around him and hugging him close.

"I love you," I said desperately, needing him to know that.

"I love you too, Madi," Jimmy said in a perplexed tone, hugging me back gently.

"I would never, _ever_ hurt you," I said, leaning back to look at him. "You know that, right?"

"Of course," Jimmy said, looking more confused than ever. "Madi, what's going on? Are you okay?"

I reached up and caressed the side of his face gently before pulling my hand away.

"Listen, if any fighting happens today, I want you to stay out of the way, okay?" I looked at him earnestly. "I want you to promise me that you'll stay away."

"Okay, Madi. I promise," Jimmy said solemnly, studying my face with a concerned look.

"Good," I said with a nod, turning to find Artie and Jones then, as I wanted to make sure they did the same. Before I could find them, however, I saw Warren Worthington, III enter the cafeteria. A flash of memory of my nightmare crossed my mind, John telling me how Warren and I had become like siblings while I was stuck with Emma controlling me. It made me feel kind of sad to think that he'd gotten so close to someone who hadn't even cared about him. I made my way toward him. He was looking around the cafeteria slowly as though searching for someone. I wondered again how long I'd been stuck in that nightmare. Had only a night passed or weeks?

I stepped toward him hurriedly. "Warren," I said, going up to him.

His gaze fell on me and he smiled slightly, though it wasn't quite the sincere smile I was expecting. There was something cold and calculating about his eyes. Something that looked eerily familiar.

"Emma Frost?" I asked quietly with a faint frown. "Is that you?"

"Proof that I don't need your body necessarily," Warren said with an evil little smirk. "Yes, your power would've been perfect to bring down this school and the X-Men, but I can use any one of you little mutants."

"You won't be using him," I said flatly. "Get out of him."

"Would you rather I go back into you?" Warren (or rather Emma) asked, taking a step forward. I took a step back, wishing I could signal to the rest of them that Emma was here.

"Look, what can you do with wings?" I asked slowly, trying to think of a plan. "You can hardly do anything with wings except fly . . ."

"Maybe I can't bring down the school with wings, but another body . . . say, you're boyfriend? I bet he could knock down some walls with those scrumptious muscles," Emma said with a slow grin that was rather creepy on Warren's face.

I didn't stop to try and fight with her. I turned and ran to where I'd left Jimmy, grabbing his shoulder and turning him toward me.

"We need to find Emma's body," I said to him in a low voice. "If you stand next to her, she'll be forced back into her own body and she'll be powerless. Then we can kill her."

Jimmy recoiled slightly. "_Kill_ her?" he asked hesitantly. "Shouldn't we just . . . detain her or something? Why do we have to kill her?"

"Um, because she's evil?" I said as though it should've been obvious. And it was obvious to me. I'd seen the future. Emma had killed Jimmy, Peter, Warren . . . I couldn't let that happen. I would do anything, _anything_ to keep that from coming true.

"Madi, we should think about this . . ."

"There's no time," I said quickly, shaking my head. "Now, where do you think her body is? It'd have to be somewhere no one would think to look. A place no one would dare go into . . ."

Jimmy looked at me a moment and a flicker of realization crossed his features, and I knew he was thinking the same thing I was.

"Wolverine's room."

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**Dun, dun, duuuuuuuuuunnnn!**

**Yeah, I decided to inject a little humor into the situation at the end there. Will Emma be in Logan's room? Will Madi really kill her in cold blood? And what will Emma do when she finds out she's been had?**

**The answer to these and other questions will be answered in the final chapter of _A Broken Shard_. Coming soon!**

**In the meantime, why don't you review and tell me how _you_ think the story is going to end? And let me know what you think of this chapter! XD**


	33. Nota Bene Numero Dos

Hello everyone! I'm so sorry I've kept you all waiting for so long, but I promise that this story will be completed. There's one more chapter left and I am working on it as I post this update. This week is spring break for me for my school and for my work so I will be getting up the final chapter either this week or this weekend I guarantee.

Thank you all for your patience.


	34. Nota Bene Numero Tres

Okay, okay. So I know I said I'd have the final chapter up soon and now it's been 8 months. Ugh. I am so sorry. My harddrive crashed soon after I posted the last update and I lost everything, including the chapter I was working on. I was devastated, as you can imagine, and I haven't been able to work on the chapter since.

But I realize that this story has a lot of followers, and I really don't want to leave you all hanging. So I will be working on the final chapter once more and I hope to have it up by the end of the year. Thank you all for your patience. I honestly couldn't have gotten this far without all of you. Madi has grown into someone I never imagined her to be when I first started this story (a good thing!), and it is thanks to all of you that I continued her growth. Thank you all for your love of this story.

After I finish this I don't think I'll be writing much fanfiction. I'm working on books I can actually publish now. One, _The Blind Traveler_, is available to purchase on a website called Lulu (it won't let me give ya'll the URL but I trust you guys to figure it out. It's just the name of the site). My penname is Isabella Ryan. I am 10,000 words into the sequel now. I hope that you will all check it out! I might not become the next J.K. Rowling or Stephenie Meyer or Cassandra Clare, but I like to think I'll be able to make my footprint on the fantasy fiction world, if only a little one.

Thank you guys again for loving Madi and sticking with me throughout these past three years. I love you all.

Sincerely,

Ryan Brooklyn


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